Handwritten Love
by BannaLuver
Summary: After being in prison for more than a year, John Bates decides to participate in the prison's pen pal program. When Anna Smith is assigned to him, will they both find comfort in a handwritten love?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own any characters of Downton Abbey. I'm simply borrowing them from Julian Fellowes to have a bit of fun._

* * *

As John Bates held the pen in his right hand all he would allow himself to focus on was the weight of it. The pen felt heavier than it should, it's thickness and metallic casing no doubt adding to the heaviness. It was merely a simple pen, and he only needed to use it to sign his name on a sheet of paper. He had read the information printed onto the standard white page more than once as he was buying himself time to consider if he really wanted to start an endeavor such as this. Would it be worth it?

For little over a year he had been calling the prison in York his home. He had learned the rules and game play of prison rather quickly in the first few months of being there, and had done his best to keep himself to himself. After a couple run ins with some of the other prisoners they had realized he wasn't one to be bullied or pushed around. He was relieved when they began leaving him be. The solitude had been his safe haven until recently.

He thought he could make it to the end of his sentence without feeling trapped. All things considered, his sentence wasn't near as long as most of the men in the place. He had been given grief about that at first as well. He thought he could handle the days as they came and went, simply going through the motions, but he found an emotion had actually found it's way to him in a place like this.

Loneliness.

Of course he was surrounded by people but not all the time. When he was in his cell, which was the majority of the time, he was alone except when he had a cell mate. He had had two _companions_ since arriving, and they had both been transferred for one reason or the other. He never asked why. It was those times in his cell, after he had counted the cinder blocks for the countless time, that he realized he longed for someone to talk to; someone not in this God forsaken place. The internal struggle had been building within him to decide if that was something he really wanted, to write to someone he didn't know. Would it make him seem desperate? In a way, he guessed it would, but then again maybe he was desperate for communication. It was a basic human want or even a need. He began convincing himself that his time inside the foreboding walls would seem less daunting if he had some form of connection to the outside world even if he would never know who that connection was.

He had thought about the type of people who may want to be pen pals with a convict. His mental images and judgmental thoughts had swayed his opinion some on the matter. He pictured men and women who had a sorry excuse for a life and nothing better to do than write to people who would either never have a life outside the prison, or who would have a much different reality from the rest of society when they got out. How could he justify this notion though? Surely not everyone would fit into that category. Some people may reach out to comfort those who were locked up and not allowed simple pleasures which had been taken for granted. He reasoned he might end up corresponding with someone who fit that description instead of the former.

He had read the words on the paper to the point he was sure he could recite them, not that there were that many. It went over the process of how the program worked. It was self explanatory really. The pen pal he would be assigned sort of made the guidelines about what was communicated and how much was communicated. A physical address for the person would never be shared but a post office box instead. The cost of the postage would be his responsibility. When he entered prison, he was allowed to put money into an account. He hadn't spent a pence of it since he had been there, so the cost wasn't a pressing issue. The last part stated the correspondence could be as much or as little as wished by both parties. Well, at least if things didn't go as planned he wouldn't have to write very often.

"Are you going to sign the bleedin' paper or not Bates?" asked the now irritated guard who had given John the paper to look over.

John looked up, startled by the voice of the guard.

"It's not a contact. If you don't want to do it then I'll escort you back," he continued with a stern tone.

John gave the guard brief eye contact before he gripped the pen tighter and leaned over the paper slightly. He placed his left hand on the paper to keep it from moving and brought the pen to the line in which his name would be placed upon.

With a deep exhale, he moved the tip of the pen across the paper until his signature was complete.

It was official. He had signed up for the prison pen pal program.

Releasing the pen from his grip, he stepped back to allow the guard to take the now signed piece of paper. He wasn't sure if he felt relieved he had signed it or felt ill. It didn't really matter now. He had signed up and soon would be communicating with someone on the outside.

"Your assigned person will be given the information, and they will correspond with you first. Now, let's get you back," the guard stated before following John out of the room.

The lock lurked until it was firmly in place on his cell door. He took a deep breath of the stagnant air before sinking down onto his small, straight backed chair. His mind began to wonder as his fingertips rapped absentmindedly atop the small wooden table. He had never been one to revel in the unknown. It had never been kind to him, but this time he was taking the step into the unknown himself hoping it would make all the difference.

That night as he stretched out as best he could on the small bunk he called a bed, he couldn't help wonder who the letter might come from. Would it be a male or female? Would they be local or live internationally? Would they have anything to really write about? He decided he would not to be picky on the topics of conversation. It was a small blessing the prison even allowed this sort of thing. He would discuss anything really just as long as he could forget about this dreamless, dreary place if even for a short while.

His anticipation would get the better of him until the first letter arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** _Same 1-2._

* * *

After a long day at work, Anna Smith closed the front door with the help of her foot before ambling into the sitting room. She dropped her personal items and post onto the coffee table before depositing herself onto the settee with a thud.

"That bad, huh?" said Anna's flatmate, Gwen Dawson who was occupying the armchair in the corner of the room.

"Not bad just terribly busy," Anna replied with a huff.

"I bet you had tons of blokes fretting over which chocolates to buy for their _Valentine_ ," Gwen responded with a sarcastic eye roll.

Anna chuckled, "I did even though it's not Valentine's Day yet, but that's the price you pay when you've decided to open your own chocolate shop. You know if you wanted to switch jobs a position is always open for you."

Gwen laughed, "Not likely! I'd end up not being able to walk through the door. I don't see how you're not tempted to eat everything you make."

"Believe me after being around it so much it's not tempting."

Gwen gave her a look to suggest she wasn't convinced. She knew better than anyone Anna Smith was fond of chocolate or anything sweet for that matter.

"And I don't make everything. Daisy makes just as much as I do."

"I think it would always be tempting for me, so thanks but no thanks."

"Fine," Anna sighed as she leaned forward to see what was in the post.

While separating it she came across an envelope from the York prison. She knew what it was before she even opened it, but she leaned back against the settee and opened it anyways. It had to be her next pen pal assignment.

Opening the envelope, she took out the paper and began reading what it said.

She smiled as her assumptions had been correct. She had been assigned a new pen pal.

"Have a new one do ya?" Gwen asked upon seeing Anna's face and the official envelope.

Anna placed the paper back in the envelope as she replied, "I do. I've never had one from the York prison before."

"Isn't that sort of close? Your others have been much further away," Gwen asked with concern present in her tone.

"It's not like the person is going anywhere, so it doesn't really matter which prison they are in," Anna shrugged.

"You didn't say what happened to your last one."

"She decided to stop participating in the program. Maybe it was something I said."

Gwen laughed, "I wouldn't doubt it."

"Hey!" Anna exclaimed and threw a small throw pillow at her friend.

Gwen stuck out her tongue as the pillow landed on the floor and not in her face.

"So, anyways, I'm going out with Ethel tonight. You should come along."

Anna stood to her feet and replied, "I'm way too tired to be dragged to every night club in the area. If you wish to do so be my guest."

"Have it your way. Ethel may be out looking for some bloke to sleep with, but that will not be my agenda."

"Just be sure to call a cab home," Anna friendly warned before she collected her things and left the room.

As her bedroom door clicked shut, Anna felt contentment over take her. Her days were now long and tiring, but she was her own boss. Her chocolate shop had been doing well, and she had a great team of employees who helped to make the days run smoothly and efficiently.

Sitting her things down again, she went over to her vanity and looked in the mirror. There was a bit of white chocolate under her right eye, and the apron she had yet to take off had some cocoa powder residue on it. She smiled at the visual sign of her labor. It was her passion after all.

After a quick shower, she heard Gwen leaving the flat. Wrapping her hair in a towel, she left her bedroom in search of something to eat. The kitchen was getting bare. She made a mental note to go food shopping soon. After fixing her meal, she padded across the flat and back into her bedroom. Her desk was her usual spot to eat, unless she was eating with Gwen or going out, and to write. She sat herself down in her chair and reopened the envelope she had opened earlier. This time she unfolded it and laid it down on the desk to read it in more detail.

Her new pen pal was a John Bates, aged 44, male, who was imprisoned for felony theft.

The prison always gave the name, gender, age, and why they were imprisoned. If they assigned her to someone who she didn't feel comfortable writing to then she could request someone else. She liked there was never any pressure to write to someone she felt uncomfortable writing.

She thought about the information she had in front of her and didn't feel any discomfort about the dossier given.

"Mr. Bates," she said aloud to herself before taking a bite of her dinner. The name had a ring to it. "I wonder what you are about Mr. Bates."

She was intrigued for some reason. Mr. Bates was imprisoned for felony theft which was a lesser charge than most.

After some thought she decided to take on Mr. Bates as her new pen pal.

* * *

John was thankful the days were starting to feel some what warmer even if that warmth was only his wishful thinking. The daily yard time was brutal during the winter. Today as he wondered around the yard the weather was pleasant despite it still being cold. During the hour of time they were allotted outside, he mainly kept to himself. He appreciated the time to breathe in fresh air. The air inside the prison always smelt stale and thick, so the opportunity to fill his lungs with a better quality air was a welcome one.

It had been almost a week since he had signed up for the pen pal program. Each day he went back inside from the hour outside he hoped he would be handed a letter, so far that hadn't been the case. It more than likely took time to sort out. The prison would have to get in contact with the person and the person would have to be the one to send a letter first. He knew he couldn't expect it to happen instantly, and it gave him something to think about.

He heard the signal to line up to go back inside. He hadn't really realized he had spent the whole hour walking around the perimeter. An old knee injury usually required him to stop and take breaks, but today his mind had drifted making him forget his knee for a while. He would need to be careful about having his head in the clouds for too long. He liked to keep an eye on his environment and make notes about those around him. Day dreaming for the whole hour could set him up for unexpected surprises. He had seen those surprises unleashed on other prisoners, and thankfully he had yet to experience.

They walked single file back through the prison doors. John instantly missed the air as his lungs adjusted back to the staleness. He ambled along and up a flight of stairs where he would wait in line as others received their post. He never minded waiting. He would never have hard feelings towards the men in here finding some kind of solace since he himself was searching for some.

After the man in front of him took his post and left, he moved forward. He stood in front of the guard waiting for the subtle shake of his head letting him know there was nothing for him as always. This time however the guard lifted an envelope and reached it out for him to take.

John felt his heart rate quicken. He was more than sure he had been struck dumb. There was a letter, and it was for him. He had been waiting patiently, and now it was here ready for him to take and read.

"Do you want it or not Bates?" The guard said shortly.

Without a verbal reply, John reached out and snatched the envelope for the guard's grasp and then moved along back to his cell.

When he had been locked back in, John walked over to his bed and sat down on the thin mattress. He grimaced as he stretched out his right leg. It was already protesting the hour long walk he had taken without stopping. This didn't deter him from his goal however which was to find out who his pen pal was.

The envelope was a standard plain white one. The outside had feminine handwriting written with black ink. He noticed the post office box return address at the top was located in Yorkshire. He was rather surprised the person was local, but that was even better. The only thing left on it was the prison address and his name written above it.

 _Mr. John Bates_

He smiled at the thought of someone in the world addressing an envelope to him. It was nice to see his full name in print.

When there was nothing else to look at on the outside, he turned it around and began slowly opening the glued down flap in the back, being careful not to tear a single bit of the envelope. With it now open, he carefully retrieved the folded piece of paper before laying the envelope down beside him. He unfolded it and held it with both hands.

"Here we go," he said to no one but himself before he laid his eyes on the words.

 _Mr. Bates,_

 _Hello, My name is Anna Smith. I have been given the pleasure of becoming your pen pal. I want to say don't worry about the first few letters. They can seem awkward since we know nothing about each other, but over time the letters will be easier to write. I must warn you I can be chatty from time to time, and I'll tend to write about things that may not seem very exciting, sometimes even just about my day. I hope this first letter finds you well, and I hope you've had a good day even under the circumstances. I'm looking forward to receiving your first letter in return if you wish to continue being my pen pal.  
_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Anna_

The letter hadn't been a long one, but it was more than John could have hoped. Anna Smith sounded like a kind, respectable woman. He appreciated the small bit of advice regarding the first few letters, which would hopefully make him feel less nervous writing a reply but he doubted it. He couldn't help but read the letter again. It may have made him sound pathetic, but he was already excited about hearing from this Anna Smith again. He smiled at the top of the page where she had written his name. It had been a long time since anyone had addressed him as Mr. Bates. In here they all called him Bates and on the rare occasion someone might say John. The last time he had been called Mr. Bates was probably during his trial sentencing, which was a memory he wished to forget.

His next thought was to write back. He didn't have any supplies in his cell. He knew a few others were allowed to keep writing supplies in their cell if they were part of the program. He would ask at dinner time about it.

After dinner, John had inquired about the writing materials, and he was offered all the items he would need. There were plenty of envelopes, paper, and a couple of pens. He organized his small table neatly, keeping fresh supplies to one side and his newly acquired letter to the other. The odd sensation of being proud of himself came to the forefront of his mind. There was nothing to be proud of in the place where he was, but he harbored a small bit of pride that he had made the decision to join the program.

Pulling out the small chair, he sat himself down and pulled one sheet of paper to the middle of the table. Next, he collected a pen and took it in hand to write. He hovered the pen above the paper because he didn't want to mess up one single sheet. He knew he wouldn't be given another stack if he carelessly wrote on all of them, so he wanted to take his time and figure out what to say before writing it down. After he knew the outline of how he wanted to reply, he began pressing the pen to the paper.

He read it over after he was finished and was pleased with how it read. He hadn't written many letters in his life, so the outcome satisfied him. He neatly folded the paper, placed it inside the envelope, and sealed it. Flipping the envelope over, he neatly printed the return address and Anna's on the front. He placed the pen back in it's place and kept the letter laying on the middle of the table. Rising to his feet, he pushed in his chair and sank down onto his mattress. He would hand over the letter first thing in the morning to be posted.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _Thank you all for your encouragement. I love hearing from you._

 **Disclaimer:** _Same 1-3._

* * *

"Do you have any plans tonight?" Daisy asked Anna as they wiped down the counters.

They had just sold out of the last of the chocolate covered strawberries they had made plus most of the truffles and other treats.

"Nope. I think I may get a head start on prep for tomorrow," Anna replied as she began rinsing out her cloth.

"But it's Valentine's Day. Surely there is someone you could spend the evening with," Daisy tried to argue.

"Daisy, when's the last time you knew me to have someone of interest," Anna asked as she looked up at Daisy with a knowing smirk.

Trying her best to think, Daisy sighed when she couldn't come up with anyone.

"Never, I don't guess."

"See? So, go on and get ready for your night with William. I'll just do a few more things here and head home myself."

"But I'll feel bad knowing you're still here," Daisy said as she took off her apron.

"I already sent everyone else home. I promise I'll be fine. Now, off with you," Anna replied as she moved her hand in a shooing motion.

"Fine. I'll be here first thing in the morning," Daisy relented.

"Have fun," Anna said before Daisy closed the shop door behind her with a small wave.

Yes, it was Valentine's Day, but the holiday never really mattered to Anna. She understood Valentine's Day to be celebrated with the one your soul couldn't live without, the one who consumed your every thought and dream. She had not found that person yet, and she wasn't sure that she would though she wanted to believe it could happen. She had a lot to offer someone. She was smart, owned her own business, and had been told more than once she wasn't hard on the eyes. It also was a plus to the certain someone that she was a chocolatier. She didn't feel the need to rush it though, finding the one. The right person would come to her without her even knowing it and that was how she had always felt about it.

When she had finished her prep for the next morning, Anna locked up her shop and began to make her walk home. She enjoyed her walks to and from work. It gave her time to reflect and go over things. It was a good way to clear her mind as well if need be. There wasn't much she could complain about. Her life was simple, but she was content with that. Simple was a good thing, too many avenues running in and out of one's life could make things more complicated. She didn't want to live that way.

Making it home, she went about her usual routine of collecting the post before she took the stairs to the flat. She was pleasantly surprised to see a prison issued, gray envelope in her post box. She gathered the few pieces inside and locked the box. She walked straight to her room after she entered the flat and deposited her personal effects onto her bed. Keeping the gray envelope in hand, she sat down on her desk chair and proceeded to open the letter.

 _Ms. Smith,_

 _The pleasure is all mine. I am thankful to have a pen pal to communicate with. I want to thank you for your advice regarding the first few letters. I have never done this sort of correspondence before, so it has helped levitate some of my nerves. I'm open to discussing whatever you may want even if it is only about your day. It wouldn't be hard to guess your day would be much more entertaining than mine. I appreciate you taking the time to write to me. Your letter made my day much better. I am looking forward to the next._

 _Until Then,_

 _John Bates_

Anna felt shocked after reading the letter. Whoever John Bates was had been very polite and gracious in his first response. The handful of pen pals she had prior had not been this pleasant in their initial greeting. This was the second time Anna had communicated with a man by exchange of letters. The others had been women who she hoped she had been a supportive ear. The other male pen pal had been an odd communicator who eventually decided to stop writing. Her new pen pal however showed promise in what little he did write. She hoped they would get on well, and hoped she could help him in anyway he may need.

Taking out her writing materials, Anna set to work on her reply. It would be a longer letter this time; one she hoped could make him forget about his current situation if only for a while.

As she wrote, she heard Gwen come into the flat. Gauging her steps, she could tell she was headed to her door.

"Come in," Anna said after she heard Gwen knock softly on her door.

"Hey," Gwen said as she held onto the door knob after opening the door.

"Hey," Anna replied as she laid her pen down.

"That was a quick first reply," Gwen stated as she saw the letter on the desk.

"It was. This bloke seems like a good communicator."

"It's been a while now since you've had a bloke. Who knows maybe this will be your last pen pal," Gwen shrugged with a small smile.

"Maybe," Anna replied with a forced, unsure smile.

"Anyways, you had your tea yet?"

"No."

"I don't really feel like cooking. I'm ordering takeaway to celebrate single awareness day. You in?"

"Count me in. I'll be out when I'm finished here."

"Alright," Gwen replied as she closed Anna's door.

Picking up her pen, Anna resumed writing where she left off. She finished the last few sentences and signed her name before she sealed and addressed the envelope. She would be sure to post it on her way to work the following morning.

* * *

"Oi, Bates."

At the sound of his name being called, John stopped his routine walk around the perimeter of the prison yard and turned. He saw Felix Baker slowly approaching him which made John relax. Felix was a bloke who was friendly enough and didn't cause much trouble. Felix wasn't always sociable, but when he was he never said anything untoward, at least not to him. John was amicable with the man. Felix was serving a life sentence for killing a man who was trying to sexually assault his only child, a daughter who was sixteen at the time. John knew he was a convicted murderer, but if he was put in the same situation he wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep from giving the man the same fate. So, John never judged the man for his decision. He didn't have the right to judge him or any man.

"Baker," John stated as they faced each other.

With unspoken agreement both men began walking again this time in each other's company.

"I heard you joined the pen pal program," Baker mentioned casually.

Gossip within the prison spread like weeds in a flower patch, so John wasn't surprised.

"I have," John replied simply, not willingly offering any details.

"Didn't have anyone to write to from home?" Baker asked kindly.

"No."

John didn't want to talk about his life before entering prison, especially to anyone in here. The less the others knew of his private life the better. It gave them less ammunition to fire.

John on the other hand knew a few details about Felix, so he switched the conversation back on him.

"How's Polly? She still getting on at university?"

John was thankful for the smile that crept onto Felix's face. He knew it meant Felix would be doing most the talking.

"In her last letter, she told me about the foreign language she is studying..."

When the signal sounded for the end of the hour, John felt relieved. It wasn't everyday that another inmate held a conversation with him, so he shouldn't really mind. If it had been some of the others he would have declined a long chat, but Felix was one of the few he let talk even if he didn't feel like socializing.

All John wanted to do now was to see if he received a reply. He was waiting in the queue as the guard handed out letters with a nervous anticipation. He had to inwardly chuckle at himself. It was quite the reverse from how he had always felt waiting in this queue knowing there would be nothing for him. Now every day was a waiting game in which he didn't mind playing.

When it was his turn, he stepped up to the guard who promptly reached out a white envelope to him. John took it in his grasp quickly without even thinking about it, unlike he had the first time, and went on his way. He ambled his way to his cell with the letter securely in his grasp. Once a guard closed and locked his door, he sat down on his bed and looked at the envelope.

There was her name up at the top again, and his written larger in the middle. He only analyzed the outside a few seconds longer before curiosity won out, and he opened the letter. Placing the envelope down neatly, he opened the folded paper.

 _Mr. Bates,_

 _I hope you've been well. You don't have to be nervous when writing to me. I enjoy communicating and getting to know others. Anyways, I'll tell you about my day, and you can determine if it's entertaining. I walk to work everyday which isn't too far away. I own a shop in the village, so I have plenty of responsibilities and tasks to keep me occupied during the day. Today is Valentine's Day, so the shop was brimming with customers, which all and all is a good thing for me. My colleague, more like partner, Daisy and I sold out of everything we had. Most days I prefer taking my break to walk around the park while I eat some kind of toastie from the shop next door. On days like today I can't manage it, but it comes with the territory of owning a business. On my way home a little bit ago, I was day dreaming as usual as couples were headed to where ever the night took them. I was thinking about spring and anticipating all the natural beauty waiting to make itself known again. I love springtime. Well, I must go celebrate Valentine's Day for now, which will consist of some form of greasy takeaway, mind numbing telly, and my flatmate Gwen moaning about being single. It really is an overrated holiday. Your reply made my day better as well. I'm looking forward to hearing from you again.  
_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Anna_

John smiled to himself after reading her response. He was glad it was a longer letter and had gathered some information about his writing companion. He was impressed she was a shop owner. He knew from experience owning your own business or managing one was no easy task. It took someone with drive and passion to make the business a success. He liked the fact she walked to and from work. The specific detail of her walking around the park whilst eating made him grin. It gave him something to try to picture even though he didn't know what she looked like. It warmed him to think of spring. He chuckled at the fact he been thinking of the coming season as well.

In truth, he had forgotten it was Valentine's Day a couple days ago. Why should he remember such a day? He agreed with Anna that it was overrated, and he sensed from her less than enthusiastic wording on the matter that she didn't have a Valentine.

"Something in common," John muttered to himself.

After reading the letter again with crinkles at his eyes, he positioned himself at his table to attempt to have something of substance to write back. What could he possibly tell her that would be of interest? He didn't want to be too personal. She would set the tone for that if she wanted to be more personal, but yet she had said a few things that were more specific.

He found he was looking forward to learning more about her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** _Same 1-4._

* * *

Anna awoke naturally on a rare day off from work. She loved waking up without the blessed alarm clock blaring in her ear and gladly accepted the extra sleep when she could get it. With the full day ahead of her, she got herself ready to explore wherever she wished. She took the time to have a small breakfast before leaving the flat and down the flights of stairs to the lobby. It had always been a habit of hers to check her post box daily while she had a pen pal and having this new one was no exception. There were more days when she didn't have a letter than when she did, but she liked the thought of one waiting for her anyway. Unlocking her box, she grinned to see one envelope lying inside. Taking it out and promptly sliding it into her coat pocket, she locked the box and set out for her stroll.

The day was sunny and bright which was a welcome sight in Yorkshire. Though the air was still crisp the feeling of warmer weather was just underneath causing her chest to lift with fullness. She much preferred the warm weather to the bitter cold of winter. Her leisurely pace took her to the park where she had spent many a day formulating plans as she day dreamed. She would smile as she passed families spending time together and watch as they played under the shade of the trees. It was a peaceful place to think and unwind.

When she came to an empty stone bench on the other side of the park, she decided to sit and read the letter she had been keeping safe in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked over the handwriting on the front. She took a moment to notice his neat hand. It looked as though he put effort into his penmanship which she found to be a good quality and one she hadn't thought of before.

Using her index finger, she slid it underneath the corner and opened the envelope, taking out the letter.

 _Ms. Smith,_

 _Hello. I must say I find your day to be full and rewarding. I know owning or managing a shop of any kind can be a daunting yet fulfilling career. I have no doubt yours will continue to be a success. I too enjoy Spring as well as Autumn. Both seasons have those certain qualities about them where the colors make everything more vivid. I am looking forward to experiencing those again someday. I must admit our conversations may be more one sided on your part. In my current situation I don't have much to tell, but I will try my best to be an acceptable pen pal. Your breaks at work sound wonderful. Strolling around the park on a nice afternoon is something I've always enjoyed and walking around is something I still do when we have time outside here. For me, Valentine's Day came and went without a thought until you mentioned it. I've never been one to celebrate it much myself though your greasy takeaway and movie sounds like a perfect night if one were to celebrate it. Feeling as though I'm lacking in what to say, if I may, I would like to ask a question. Please know you do not have to acknowledge or respond to the question if you feel like it is overstepping the mark. If you felt comfortable discussing it with me, would you mind telling me a little more about your shop? Again if you do not wish to please tell me. I won't mind._

 _Until Then,_

 _John Bates_

Anna looked up from the letter and out across the park, breathing out a short giggle. She didn't know why, but she found it sweet he was stumbling over himself to ask her a question and a very innocent one at that. She had been asked questions before and asked questions in return, but Mr. Bates seemed genuinely interested in what she did for a living. Looking back down, she reflected on the other parts of the letter which seemed to have a longing to be able to enjoy something as simple as a walk in the park like she was doing today. She knew people in prison had a hard time being secluded from the world, and each one of them more than likely had a cause or reason to push them to the point of ending up where they were. She sighed deeply as she thought about it.

She always wondered why her pen pals committed the crime they did. In Mr. Bates' case, she wondered why a man who wrote so kindly and politely would commit felony theft, but she never did ask her pen pals for details in regards to their crime. Instead, she wanted to talk about anything other than prison so it could take their minds to somewhere else. They seemed to have a few things in common for just the couple of letters they had exchanged so far. He too liked taking walks and sounded like the type of person who would be easy to hang out with. As she thought about his question, she already knew she would be more than willing to discuss the topic. She wouldn't be completely open with information, but she would discuss enough to make the conversation continue. She folded the letter back into its envelope and enjoyed the rest of her day off.

* * *

Turning the page of the volume of poetry he had read more times than he would ever admit, John meditated over his recent sent letter. He hadn't paid a bit of attention to the last few pages in his book though he tried to convince himself he was reading. He couldn't help thinking about what her response might be. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off because she thought he was pushing in too quickly. If he did, he could get a different writing companion, but he wanted to get to know Anna Smith. He had thought, during the numerous hours when that was all he could do was think, how old fashioned handwritten letters were. Nowadays, people sent texts, used video chat, and email. It was nice to write down thoughts and replies, and the anticipation of waiting for a reply in return was something texts and emails just did not offer. He hadn't tried to picture what she might look like. They were still in the early days of even knowing of one another, so he just thought of someone who was happy and ambitious. Those were two qualities he felt he could properly use when thinking of her.

He quickly closed his book and dropped it on the table when he heard the lock on his door beginning to turn. Standing, he realized he had day dreamed his morning away as the guard motioned him out of the cell to go to their midday meal. He never did complain about the food that was given. He was just grateful to be fed regularly. It was more the open setting he didn't care for much. The time outside which would follow this meal time was different. The men had their lots they stayed around, and they usually kept to their areas of the yard or to themselves like he did. Inside the eating area, there was always a different feeling. It had the kind of tension that was just right to form indigestion from eating too quickly as you surveyed the space around you. This was the time and place for gossip and mischief to happen. He had seen several men get into violent physical exchanges in this room, and he had no desire to ever be a part of one.

Once he made it through the food line, he sat down at an emptier table and looked down at his stew and piece of bread. It was a very simple meal, as all the meals were, but it was enough. He raised his water glass to his lips as a couple of men joined him, sitting across from him. John recognized the dark haired man as Felix Baker who was slowly becoming something like a friend to him, but the other man he did not know.

"Bates, this is Owen Malone. He's a new bloke," prompted Felix.

"John Bates," John offered as way of introduction. If they were in a normal world, John would have been friendlier and offered to shake the man's hand, but that was not how things were done here. You didn't shake hands, and if you did you had more than likely agreed to do something you would likely regret or owe someone a favor. John had never shaken any hands.

Owen simply nodded his head in acknowledgement looking as though he were scared to death to be there. John took a bite of his bread as he reflected on whether or not he had had the same expression. He probably had, and who knows maybe all of them looked like that all the time but learned how to disguise it better. He watched in his peripheral as Owen started to eat noticing his spoon shaking in his nervous grasp. He thought it good of Felix to bring him their way because they would go easy on him. Some of the others would already be mocking him, and if they caught him being timid they would be sure to make themselves known. The fact he was new meant nothing.

"Malone," John stated under his breath.

Owen looked up. His eyes widened as he looked John in the eye.

"Take some deep breaths. I know this is all a shock, but you need to be calmer."

Owen blinked and broke their eye contact before taking the deep breaths as John had instructed. It seemed to help the sandy blonde haired man. John thought to himself he couldn't be more than thirty years of age, which was a bit younger than him and Felix who was almost the same age as John. He was sadden to see another young man wasting away with the rest of them.

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, and now John was taking his walk around the yard. The air was more bitter today, and he pulled his prison issued coat tighter around him. The sky was a dull gray and cloud filled but he continued on his walk anyways. He couldn't help but wonder if Anna was on her break somewhere in Yorkshire walking around just like he was. He gave a sad breathy chuckle at his thought as his eyesight dropped to the ground. Her walks would never be anything like his walks in here and for that he was thankful.

He felt some relief when he heard the sound indicating their yard time was over. The weather had made it less enjoyable, and it also meant his new favorite time of the day had arrived. Taking his place in the queue, he waited patiently as the post was handed out. His heart rate sped up just a tad as he made it to the front of the line and a quirk of a smile made it's way to the corner of his mouth as a white envelope was there for the taking. Without prompting, he took the envelope from the guard and made his way back to his cell.

As he sat at his table, he looked at the envelope with some trepidation. He wanted to tear it open and read it hastily, yet at the same time he wasn't sure what she may have said in return. It had been a simple question he had repeated to himself more than once, but still he didn't want to mess things up.

When curiosity won out, he carefully opened the letter and began to read.

 _Mr. Bates,_

 _Hello to you, too. I hope you've been well since last we wrote. I'm glad to hear you enjoy strolling as much as I do. It's a simple pleasure, but one I don't think I could do without. Next time I'm on my break I'll think of Spring colors and send warm toastie thoughts your way, hopefully making your walks a little more pleasant. You needn't worry, Mr. Bates. You have been more than an acceptable pen pal. I have been enjoying our conversations so far. Have you? Thank you for your confidence in my shop's success. It's still rather new to me. I haven't been open even a year yet, but we are learning day by day. In regards to your question, I would be more than happy to answer. My shop is a sweet shop. It's mainly chocolate, but we offer a few other items as well. I went to school to become a chocolatier and from there worked as an apprentice until I could afford to strike out on my own. It's a small shop, but more than enough space to accommodate what we have to offer. I guess you could say chocolate is my passion, but wouldn't most women say that anyway? I enjoy making and creating food that I know will bring a smile to a person's face, whether it's for themselves or given as a gift to someone else. Almost everyone who comes in to shop is happy and smiling, especially children, which makes my day even better. So, if you will allow me a question in return, were you in the same line of work, business? If you were any tips would be helpful._

 _Hope you hear from you soon._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Anna_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** _Thank you for the follows, faves, reviews, and for reading. I always enjoy reading your thoughts._

 **Disclaimer:** _Same 1-5._

* * *

He had fallen asleep the night before dreaming of chocolate sweets and Springtime. It had been a long time since he drifted to sleep without being restless, but the images he created in his mind from Anna's letter had soothed him. He was just beginning to wake as the first light of day broke through the small sliver of a window he had in his cell. With a deep inhale, he blinked and lifted his head. Anna's letter was lying on the center of his chest. He picked it up, carefully folding it. With a groan, he heaved himself up into a sitting position allowing his feet to touch the floor. He felt somewhat irritable with himself that he had fallen asleep without writing a reply first, but his thoughts hadn't allowed him.

Rubbing his eyes, he half-smiled again at the vision of a faceless, ambitious woman who loved making sweet creations. He never would have thought it to be a sweet shop, but for whatever reason it seemed fitting even if he had never met her before. His heart had lifted with her willingness to respond to his question. She didn't have to give him an answer at all, but he was thankful she was willing to share with him.

After breakfast, he would sit down and write a proper reply.

* * *

"What's got you down in the mouth?" Gwen inquired as Anna sat down on the settee.

"My pen pal. I haven't had a letter in six days, and I usually have one by now. I hope he hasn't dropped me already."

"Anna, you know how these things work. It isn't up to them when the letters get sent out. You've had longer waits then this before."

Anna nodded in agreement. She had waited longer before that was true, but she was looking forward to Mr. Bates reply more than she had the others. Maybe he hadn't had the opportunity to write as quickly. At least that was what she was going to go with for now.

"You're right. I'm just being silly."

"So, tell me about this one. What's his name? What's he like?" Gwen asked with a smile.

Anna grinned before turning to face Gwen.

"His name is John Bates. He's forty-four."

"Forty-four? He's a bit older isn't he," Gwen interrupted before Anna could continue.

"Forty-four isn't old," Anna defended.

"I guess you're right. It just caught me by surprise. Keep going."

"From his letters so far he seems polite and well spoken. I don't know much about him yet other than he seems to like simple things such as taking walks. He also never really celebrated Valentine's Day either."

"Welcome to the club," Gwen joked before turning serious again, "So you're enjoying writing him then?"

"It's early days, but so far it was been very pleasant writing to him."

"Well, if it makes you happy then that's all that matters."

The following evening, Anna kicked her flat door closed behind her after a physically tiring day of work. She had icing sugar residue lingering on her and decided to take a shower before doing anything else. She dropped her things onto her bed and began collecting her change of clothes. Peering back over to the bed, she smirked at the gray envelope on the bed. She was surprised at how relieved she had been to see it in her post box, realizing she had been silly about the wait. Getting herself clean was the first priority so she could relax as she read.

She toweled off her hair and brushed it thoroughly before stepping back into her bedroom. She shivered as the cooler air touched her skin after her hot shower. Walking to the furnace, she adjusted it slightly to take off the chill before making her way to the end of the bed to collect Mr. Bates' latest response. Rounding the bed, she switched on her lamp and then propped herself up on the bed. Slitting the envelope open, she took out the page.

 _Ms. Smith,_

 _I have been as well as one can be in here since your last letter, and I hope you too are well. You can send me good thoughts of toasties or any other food you wish. Anything would be better than what they consider food here, but I'm thankful for what I get. I have very much enjoyed our conversations, and I'm glad you see me as an agreeable pen pal. Your shop sounds incredible. I must admit I would have never guessed a sweet shop, but it sounds made just for you. When I indulged in a treat I would usually pick Dairy Milk, but I have no doubt your chocolate would be even more delightful. Thank you for your willingness to share those details with me. They brightened my day. Now, I see it only fair to respond to your question as you have mine. I was in the line of business. I worked a few different places, and even as a shop manager, but that didn't end up working out for me. Maybe they weren't meant to be, but I'll never know for sure. So, I don't know if I'd be the best one to give any tips. Well, I hope the rest of your day is a relaxing one. If I may ask another question, other than your obvious passion for chocolate, what are some of your interests?_

 _It's always a pleasure hearing from you, Ms. Smith._

 _Until Then,_

 _John Bates_

Anna placed the paper on her lap and thought it over. She appreciated his compliments, and could tell they were heartfelt. She noticed he hadn't complained about the prison food, not really, but instead decided to be thankful for it. She smiled when he wrote about her brightening his day. It was a small victory in her book whenever she could lift someone's spirits, especially someone who was in the situation Mr. Bates was in. It was a normal thing to try to imagine what her pen pals looked like. She never asked questions about physical appearance though. As she thought about him all she could envision were soulful eyes. She knew not the color, but she had a feeling this man's eyes were the gateway to who he really was. Sighing, she picked up the paper and reread his response to her question. It was vague. He had been in business working for a few different places. She didn't want to pry if he wasn't comfortable talking about his past work places, but it did leave her curious as to why he didn't give any detail at all. Maybe with time he would share more of that story with her.

Getting out of bed, she laid the letter on her desk and went into the sitting room.

* * *

John paced back and forth in his tiny cell. Another letter had arrived for him and now it was sitting on his table yet to be opened. He had cursed himself over his cowardliness to answer her question the way he should have. He couldn't go into details though. He had enough riding against him already with being in prison in the first place, and someone such as Anna didn't need to hear about his mess of a life. The burden of his follies would remain with him, or so he told himself.

Would she be angry or disappointed with his lack of reply? He had worried she might not respond at all, but there the reply was waiting for his eyes to read. He barely knew of who Anna Smith was, but he found he cared a great deal about her reactions and her feelings. He didn't want his past sins to continue to crush what little future he had left, if he even had one at all. His pacing had went on for too long, and therefore, his knee began to protest. Knowing he needed to sit down, he picked up the letter and sat down on the bed with his legs stretched the length of it.

He examined the front of it as he always did and noticed she had used a different postage stamp. It was a small bunch of colorful spring flowers. He couldn't recall the name of the flowers, but that didn't take away from their cheerfulness. A half-smile formed as he took in the colors, knowing she had picked that particular one from their discussion about spring. The gesture was small, but for him having someone show him even the smallest of gestures was more than he could hope. Anna had taken the time to go down the local post office and select the stamp. He was truly grateful and made a mental note to mention it in his reply in hopes she may continue to do so.

Taking his eyes away from the flowers, he proceeded to open.

 _Dear Mr. Bates,_

John paused after only reading the first line. She had added dear to the beginning. Why that made him pause he couldn't say. Most letters offered the standard Dear So and So, but this had been the first time for her to address her greeting that way. After a moment, he continued his reading.

 _I have been very well, and I'm glad to hear you too are well. It has been a busy day at the shop. I spent most of it working with recipes that include icing sugar. I like to do those all at the same time because for the life of me I can't seem to not get it everywhere including on myself. You would have thought winter had decided to have another go at a snow storm by the way it looked in there. It was a bugger to clean up._

He paused in his reading again as a genuine laugh came from him. He couldn't help picture icing sugar flying around making a big mess while Anna laughed and then fussed at the whole thing. The laughter sent a vibration through his chest he hadn't felt in ages. When his laughter died down, he picked up where he left off.

 _Enough about that, I'm happy to hear you're enjoying our correspondence, and don't consider me a complete bore. Always know you can share as much or as little as you wish with me, Mr. Bates. That is the beauty of being one's writing companion. There is no pressure to talk about anything either one of us may not want. So, please know your response to my question, although vague, was more than enough. Also, thank you for your sweet compliments, and I most certainly could give Dairy Milk a run for their money. As far as my interests go, I would say they change depending on my mood. I enjoy reading when I have the time. I usually read to clear my mind when I'm overthinking, and it does the trick most of the time. I also like music. Live music if I get the chance. The atmosphere of being with people who enjoy the same type of music you do enhances the listening experience to me anyways. The last live band I heard wasn't anyone famous, but they were covering The Who. It was fantastic. I like my down time too which includes a night in with a pot of tea and one too many biscuits being eaten (or more but don't tell anyone) and either a movie or programme on the telly. So, since we are playing the question game, are you from the York area or have you come from somewhere else? Oh, and if we are to be friends I insist you call me Anna. Talk to you soon._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Anna_

Later that evening, John was in the dinner line waiting for his serving to be placed on his tray. He hadn't stopped thinking about Anna's letter and what a treasure it was. She was so thoughtful and understanding when it came to him not giving details which he hadn't been expecting. He expected her to be at least some rebuffed by his wording, but she hadn't been. It was a nice reminder to know there wasn't any pressure.

After his food and water were placed on his tray, he took a seat at his normal table. His mind was focusing on Anna liking The Who when Felix and Owen joined him in their unofficial spots.

"Bates."

"Baker," John greeted back after being snapped out of his thoughts.

John met Owen's gaze, and they nodded their acknowledgement of each other before they went about their business of eating. John ate diligently as his mind tried to grasp the fact Anna had said they are to be friends. Why someone would want to be friends with someone in prison was beyond him, especially someone as well put together as her. He would never be so foolish as to turn down her friendship though, and would even submit to her request that he call her by her given name.

"Polly wrote," Felix stated out of nowhere as he laid his spoon down.

"Who's Polly?" Owen asked curiously.

"Polly's my daughter."

Owen nodded without further comment.

"How is that girl of yours?" John asked as he gave Felix his attention.

Felix's eyes brighten as he began to talk about his daughter. Both Owen and John got caught up in Felix's words. It was nice to hear of something good happening to those in the world, and in John's opinion, Polly deserved every bit of happiest life could bring her. The three of them even laughed at one point, and John felt he could get used to the sensation of laughing again.

"Yeah, it must have been a terrible mess, but my Polly can handle anything," Felix said as he finished.

"It's funny because An-" John cut himself off before he completely said her name. He had almost forgotten himself.

"What?" Felix asked. Both the men giving him a confused look.

He didn't want to bring up Anna. No, he did want to bring up Anna, but mentioning her here and this early would do him no favors. She was always now at the forefront of his thoughts that it had been natural, too natural, for him to speak of her. He would have to be careful when speaking.

"Nothing. I'm glad Polly is doing so well," John replied quickly.

Felix nodded his thanks before the signal informed them dinner was over.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: _Same 1-6._

* * *

A few days after Anna had sent her letter off she received her now routine reply in return. She had gotten home much later than normal the night before due to running errands she had long neglected, so she decided to wait to read the missive when she was more awake to appreciate what was written.

"Daisy."

"Yeah?" Daisy called out before walking in Anna's direction.

"Would you mind finishing up these few cherry cordials while I go on my break?" Anna asked kindly.

"Not at all. We've not been that busy today, so go on and take your time."

"Thanks, Daisy."

Anna washed her hands and removed her apron before walking into the small break area to put on her coat. Opening her purse, she took out some money and put it in her pocket along with the letter. She thanked Daisy again for finishing up her task before she walked out the door. The walk to the shop next door was very brief. She placed her order for a ham and cheese toastie and a bottle of water, and after her order was handed over to her she made her way across the street to the park. Her feet carried her casually along the path as she took a bite of her food. She immediately thought of Mr. Bates and mentally sent him the warm thoughts she had promised she would, hoping in some way he knew she was sending them. If only he could be here right now, she thought to herself before dismissing the silly notion. That was an impossible thought for so many reasons, so she just shook her head and continued to eat.

With her meal eaten, she stopped along the path and sat underneath a tree with her back pressed against the trunk. Crossing one leg over the other, she retrieved the envelope from her pocket. The familiar gritty feel of the small packet moved along her fingertips as she turned it over and slit it open. There were two pages inside.

 _Dear Anna,_

She smiled brightly as she saw her given name up at the top and was pleased he had done as she requested. She hoped this was a sign he did indeed consider them to be friends.

 _I just thought you should know your icing sugar story made me laugh like I haven't laughed in quite some time. I only hope you were fully able to vanquish the sugar snow storm. I have an old family recipe for chocolate shortbread cookies if you'd like to have it. I also would like to know how I could possibly consider you being a complete bore when you have tales like this to share. You are anything but a bore. Thank you for your understanding in regards to my response to your question. Please know the same goes for you. I would never want you to feel pressed to talk about anything. Believe it or not most of the interests you have are also mine. I enjoy reading and have a few books and volumes of poetry with me here that I read almost everyday. I was pleasantly surprised to read your comment about live music in particular. Music is definitely one of life's treasures, and I would agree hearing it live whether it be the band themselves or some cover band in a small beer garden enhances the experience. It has been I would say four years or more since I heard anyone live. I believe the last band I went to see was U2. It ended up being a spur of the moment kind of thing. A mate of mine back then ended up with an extra ticket and his wife wouldn't go, so we went to see them. If you haven't heard of them, you should listen to some of their stuff. I think everyone needs some down time from time to time, so I will keep your one too many biscuits a secret between us._

There first secret, she thought to herself as she paused. Even if it was something trivial, it was still a secret, and for some reason she didn't doubt he would keep it.

 _I'll try to answer your question better this time, and no I feel no pressure in sharing. I want to share with you._

She paused again as she felt a slight flutter in her stomach. He wanted to honestly share with her which was great, but why was she feeling as though those words meant more? Unable to figure it out, she kept reading.

 _In order to tell you where I'm from, I would have to start at the beginning. I'm originally from Ireland._

"Oh, God. He's Celtic," Anna said aloud to herself as she blushed. She looked up to see if anyone had heard her, and when she didn't see anyone she turned back to the page.

 _When I was a young lad, my mother and I moved to London. My father had decided he no longer wanted to be a family man and left to make a different life._

Anna had to stop to go to the next page and did so eagerly.

 _My mother used to tell me it was the biggest blessing in disguise for the both of us. Anyway, we moved to London because there were many more opportunities for my mother to find work as a seamstress than there was in Ireland. So, from a lad until right around the age of thirty-eight I lived in London. After that I moved to Yorkshire and that has been my home ever since._

Anna's eyes widened. Mr. Bates lived in Yorkshire. She lived in Yorkshire. Suddenly, she tried to rack her brain to try to think if she had ever heard or remembered anything about a John Bates who lived in Yorkshire. Nothing was coming to her, but he had to know that she lived in Yorkshire because of the return address which went to the post office before being forwarded to her post box at her complex. Why hadn't he mentioned it before now? Maybe he thought it would be awkward to just come out and say 'hey I'm John Bates and just so you know I live in Yorkshire, too'. Taking a breath, she calmed herself back down, so she could think it over clearly. He wanted to share with her, and he was doing so. He didn't have to tell her he lived in Yorkshire, but he did which she now appreciated. She wondered if he had family in the area.

 _Of course it's been over a year since I've called Yorkshire my home, but it will be nice to go back once I'm done here. So, that is where I'm from. I hope that my living in the same county doesn't bother you. I decided to move to Yorkshire for reasons I shouldn't have at the time, but it is a lovely part of the country. I have no relatives in the area though.  
_

Drat, she thought to herself.

 _So, it is nice to have you to write._ _It is getting close to dinner time here. I can tell by the placement of the shadows. I hope you have a wonderful week ahead. Also, if I am to call you Anna then I would very much like for you to call me John. Mr. Bates is much too formal for friends.  
_

 _P.S. - I noticed the flower postage stamp, and I want you to know how much I appreciate the bit of color it brought. Thank you for selecting it._

 _Until Then,_

 _John Bates_

* * *

John was siting in a straight backed chair in the room where some of the inmates got to work twice a week. They would work through the morning up until their midday meal on various mending projects. For some who had much longer sentences or even a life sentence, they had jobs such as making soap, working in the kitchen, in the laundry room, and even converting standard textbooks into braille textbooks. The rest of them worked in the mending room. That day they had numerous pairs of denim jeans they were hand stitching together. John didn't mind the mending. He had learned everything he knew from his mother, so even with a fabric as difficult as denim he had a steady hand. They weren't allowed to converse while working. They had extra guards in the room to make sure the rules were followed and to make sure no one had any clever ideas in regards to the sewing needles. This didn't stop the inmates from staring at one another though, trying to converse non-verbally. John appreciated the opportunity to be able to use his hands and do something productive even if the four hours of work only equaled to one pound and fifty pence in pay. That was three pounds a week he earned, which was better than zero.

He had just finished up another pair of jeans when he looked up to see an inmate staring at him from across the room. He stared back for a moment with his usual stoic face before reaching for his next pieces of fabric. The inmate, Glen Hyland, had already served half of his twenty year sentence for a litany of charges including vandalism, carrying a dangerous weapon, impersonating a police officer, and several others. He had served a couple year sentence years before, but he hadn't learned his lesson and ended up there for twenty more years. John looked back up to see him still staring at him. Glen was a shorter but broader man with red hair and beard. His eyes were a few shades greener than John's hazel. John had a feeling he would find out sooner rather than later why he had taken a particular interest in him.

When their work was over, they were escorted to the dining hall. John went about the normal routine and took his seat as he sat his tray down on the table. Owen and Felix were already there eating.

"Baker," John greeted.

"Bates," Felix replied.

"Malone," continued John.

"Bates," Owen said quietly.

After their brief acknowledgement of the other, they went about their business.

They were about half way through the allotted meal time when Felix saw two men headed their way. One being Glen Hyland and the other was his gopher Lloyd Farris, a rail thin man with mousy brown hair and a few missing teeth. Felix watched them for a couple seconds more before speaking.

"We've got company," he stated into his water glass to cover his mouth.

Owen looked up wondering what was going on, and John didn't even need to look behind him to know who was approaching.

"Well, if it isn't the three amigos," Glen announced as he came up behind John.

"Hyland. Farris," Felix greeted none too friendly.

Owen just stared as the two men sat down on either side of John. John set his jaw before addressing the men calmly.

"To what do we owe this visit?"

"Me and Farris here just noticed you've been receiving a lot of letters recently. Heard you've joined the writing program."

"That's correct," he replied evenly as he gave Glen his first eye contact.

"Since you've had an extra pep in your awkward step, we reckon it's a female your writing to."

John turned his head to look forward at Felix instead of the men to his sides. He would not give them what they were looking for. They were looking for information that he would never provide.

"Yeah, I bet Bates here has got him a saucy little lass writing him," Farris added.

Glen and Lloyd both laughed as John kept his face impassive. This was exactly why he didn't share details with anyone in here. The majority of them were bastards.

"You rubbing one out as she writes to you about giving you a wank, eh? I bet she's a real slapper since she wants it from a convict."

John gulped hard as his knuckles turned white from gripping his food tray so intensely. He was trying as best to not punch Glen in the face. If doing so wouldn't have told Glen what he wanted to know then he would have.

"Fellas, we don't even know who it is, so how about we drop it, yeah?" Felix suggested in a full tone.

"Why? It's not a sore subject is it?" Glen asked with mock concern.

"I do not wish to discuss this," John stated.

"Of course you don't. The whole lot of ya are nothing but a bunch of bellends who can't get their legs over."

"In that case, I think we are done here," John responded almost with gritted teeth.

"We'll be back, and next time we expect you to be friendlier with your conversation. Come on Farris."

In the next moment, Glen and Lloyd got up from the table and walked back over where they came from telling the others something to make them laugh. John was still incredibly tense.

"I don't know what the hell he's on about. He's hasn't had a leg over in ten years. Maybe that's why the bastard is the way he is," Felix offered as a way to help John cool down.

"Are those two usually trouble?" Owen asked.

"Not usually. The two of them are just pathetic wankers looking to get a rise out of someone."

Owen nodded in response.

"You okay, Bates?" Felix asked.

"What? Yes, yes I am," John lied as he focused on the two men in front of him.

He had been highly relieved when the signal rang for yard time. Clearing his head was exactly what he needed to do, and he hoped some air would help. He stayed clear of everyone else as much as possible as he walked while keeping an eye on his surroundings. He hadn't been approached in a long while, and all things considered it was a mild interaction. But John couldn't believe the intense sense of protectiveness he felt when Anna's character was being dragged through the mud. The shame he now felt was overwhelming. He should have shut Hyland up and made him pay for what he said, but if he had then it would have confirmed that he was writing a woman and that he cared for her. Then everything would get increasingly worse.

He stopped walking as the realization dawned on him. He cared for Anna. How could he not? It didn't matter that they had never spoken or seen one another. He cared about her reputation. She never deserved to be talked about in such a manner. His blood turned hot again as the word slapper came back to him. Anna was not writing to him out of sexual need. She was no where near a slut as Hyland had suggested. His jaw clenched at the mere words floating in his mind.

Walking again, he hoped he would have the resolve to not take the bait if he was approached again, but that would be a bridge to cross when he got to it. He was thankful Felix and Owen had been there. If he had been alone the outcome may have been different. He found it rather funny Felix had mentioned Glen hadn't been with a woman in ten years. It was kind of sad that he was going around looking for perverse conversations. John decided to pity him.

The hour flew by because of his constant brooding, and he made it a point to get towards the back of the queue so Glen and Lloyd couldn't make any further comments if he had a letter that day. He didn't mind the extra wait if it meant he could be left in peace.

Finally making it to the front, he felt his heart lift as an envelope was reached out towards him. He accepted it immediately and went to his cell.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** _Here we are with another chapter. I'm hoping to get back on track with updating more regularly. Thank you for your continued support. x_

 **Disclaimer:** _Same 1-7._

* * *

The following morning John woke abruptly and groaned as his back tensed from the thin mattress. Even though he had been sleeping on the so called mattress for quite a while now, he still couldn't get used to it. With effort he got himself into a seated position and attempted to arc his back to alleviate some of the soreness. He had no idea how long he slept for, but if he had to guess it couldn't have been more than a couple of hours. His mind just wouldn't shut off, so he had no choice but to lie there most of the night thinking in the dark. When he had returned to his cell the day before, he hadn't read his letter. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to be able to focus on anything she might have said, and he always wanted give her words his full attention.

He grunted then sighed when his back popped. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair before he got to his feet. The outside light coming through the window let him know he had plenty of time before he would be escorted to the dining area, so he decided he could now take the time to read. The light was dim in the room, but it was enough for him to be able to see the writing on the paper.

He walked the short distance to the small table and took the envelope in hand. Looking at it fully for the first time, he looked to the top right corner to see a willow tree stamp. It looked beautiful with its long sweeping branches, and he closed his eyes as he silently sent her a mental thank you. Opening his eyes, he carefully freed the epistle from its confines and noticed two pages. As he unfolded the papers, he walked to the corner of the room which had the most light and started to read.

 _Dear John,_

He smiled at the change of name. His thumb slid across the greeting before he read on.

 _I'm glad to know I'm still able to supply comedic relief. They do say laughter is the best medicine. I did in fact vanquish the evil icing sugar snow storm and have yet to make anything else containing the ingredient. I'm sure when I do though I'll have another humorous tale to pass along. I would love to try your chocolate shortbread recipe if you're still willing to share. I'm always on the hunt for something new. It seems as though our interests run in the same circles. I have heard of U2 of course, but it's been a while since I've listened to them. I'll be sure to do that when I have a block of free time. I got to take my break today. I went next door and purchased a ham and cheese toastie, but surely you would already know that because I sent you warm toastie thoughts as I promised. I took my walk as well. The weather was cooperative enough to allow me to sit under a tree to read your last letter, hence the willow tree stamp._

Stopping, he shuffled the papers to look at the envelope again. His eyes crinkled as he tried to picture her there sitting underneath the tree reading what he had written. Though he had no real visual reference to go on, he felt as though he could envision a breathtaking smile. He sighed contentedly before he returned to the page.

 _I am pleased to find out you're from Ireland. I have never been, but if pictures do it any justice, I would like to visit one day. It sounds as though your mother made the right decision in moving you both to London. Does she still live there? I am not bothered by the fact you live in Yorkshire. I admit I was surprised at first, but Yorkshire is a beautiful place so you have good taste. As you must know, I too live in Yorkshire. I have all of my life except for the time I was attending school. It makes for a small world for us to be in the same county. It may sound silly, but I feel it's like fate decided to make us pen pals. Out of everyone in the world, two people from Yorkshire ended up being writing companions, and who are we to question it?  
_

Before he brought the second page forward, he thought about her wording. He was sure if it had been anyone else they would have been concerned with them living so close, but Anna said it had been fate. He relished her loving spirit and her kind words, but the darker side of him worried if he was misleading this woman with a big heart. Yes, he had been the one to decide to participate in the writing program, finding the need for normal communication to be too great, but he had never expected some one to speak with him so readily and openly. It wasn't that he wasn't thankful. He was being blessed more than he had any right to be by having Anna to write to, which made him doubt whether or not he was worthy enough to communicate with her. He pushed his thoughts aside so he could finish.

 _Well, I hope you have a good nights rest and a pleasant week ahead. Gwen is insisting we go out for dinner (she hates cooking and would feel too guilty if I cooked every night), so I must go for now. Looking forward to hearing from you soon._

 _Your friend,_

 _Anna_

His friend, he said inwardly. He leaned his back against the cinder block wall as he dropped his arms to his sides still holding the papers. He felt as though a whole basket of different feelings had been dumped inside of him at the same time. Shame, guilt, happiness, contentment, lack of confidence, fear, and joy were swirling around trying to beat out the other as the prominent emotion. He started to try to place them all.

The shame and the guilt were still lingering from the day before. Here she was signing off as his friend, but he had done nothing to protect her yesterday. He had sat there quietly as vulgar, sordid things were spewed about her. It would take some time before he would come to terms he had done the right thing at the time.

His fear came from the unknown he had placed himself in. The more he came to rely on his continual communication with her the more fearful he felt. Most of his hours were now spent wondering how she was, how her day was going, or what she might be doing. He feared the more they learned of each other the more dependent he would become.

Long ago he would have considered himself to be a confident man, but life had had a harsh way of ridding him of most of his confidence. He could play the role of a confident man quite well when he needed. Out in the general areas with the others it was a necessity to play the role and play it well, but when alone his self-esteem was very low. He reasoned with himself that Anna knew certain things about him that he didn't need to reveal. He knew she knew he was in prison for felony theft. She wouldn't be writing to inmates if she didn't realize they had some distasteful pasts. She knew the kind of people she would be writing. The kind of people he was now associated with. It made him wonder why someone as wonderful as her would be writing to someone like him. She also knew he was a middle-aged man. He had not the ability to even guess what her age might be. A person had to be at least eighteen to write, but he doubted she was that young and doubted her to be considered elderly. That left him guessing anywhere from twenty to several years older than him which was a wide age range. Maybe he could find a way of asking without directly doing so.

The last of his emotions were happiness, contentment, and joy. He was happy for the first time in a long time. Communicating with someone outside the prison walls was doing him a world of good even if it was hard for him to admit it to himself. The letters were giving him an opportunity to focus on things other than his imprisonment. He felt content that Anna was someone who he could talk to easily. She made it simple to just talk and share and always without judgement or criticism. He considered her a gift which brought him joy to call her friend.

The highs and lows of his feelings would toy with him for a few more days ahead.

* * *

Locking her post box, Anna clutched the small gray pouch and hummed as she made her way up the flights of stairs to her flat. When she stepped inside, she noticed Gwen curled up on the couch watching some reality programme. She closed and locked the door as Gwen muted the sound.

"Hey," Gwen greeted.

"Hey," Anna said as she walked closer.

"Are those biscuits I see on the table?" she asked with curious eyes.

"They are, and you're more than welcome to join me in eating them when you get settled," Gwen offered.

"You're an angel."

"Of course I am. When am I not?" Gwen quipped back cheekily.

They both chuckled as Anna said, "I won't be long."

Walking to her room, she placed her things on her desk and quickly changed out of her work clothes. Once finished, she padded into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea before joining Gwen on the couch.

Anna took a sip of her tea and both of them took a biscuit from the plate.

"What are you watching?" Anna asked before taking a bite of the sweet treat.

"Some model reality show. You know there is nothing better than sitting on your bum eating biscuits while watching models."

Anna almost choked as she began to laugh.

"Why because we could never be models?" Anna asked through her laugh.

"It's not because of our looks. We're smoking hot, but I'm not giving up my biscuits and cream cakes for no one."

"Here, here," Anna agreed as they raised their biscuits into the air before taking another bite.

After the episode of the show was over, Gwen muted the sound again and adjusted herself on the couch to talk to her friend better.

"So, what's the update on your pen pal bloke?"

Sitting her empty mug on the table, Anna turned to talk better with a smile on her face.

"I'm still enjoying writing to him. He's a good conversationalist."

"Well that was easy to tell with a smile like that on your face," Gwen mentioned.

"He's a gentleman too," Anna added.

Gwen cocked one eyebrow.

"I know he's in prison, but that doesn't stop him from being a gentleman," Anna defended lightly.

"Doesn't it? I would think most of the men in prison would be anything but a gentleman."

"Most, yes, but not John."

"John? If you're going by first names, I'm assuming you two are getting along well. Your other bloke was only ever Mr. Sims."

"We are getting along well. We have a lot in common and believe it or not in the last few years he's lived in Yorkshire as well."

"What?" Gwen said in shock as she leaned forward slightly. "Yorkshire? This Yorkshire?"

"Yes, this Yorkshire."

"I hope you've not been too forward with information about yourself then. He may have people here who could find you," Gwen said with concern.

"Gwen," Anna chided.

"I'm serious, Anna. I know you write to inmates because it helps you deal with what happened, but there are some really dangerous people in there."

"In all honesty, I don't think he has anyone at all. His mother might live in London, but I don't even know that yet. She may be deceased. And with the way he writes, it's like he doesn't even belong in prison. But anyways, I haven't went into great detail. I told him about the shop but didn't give a name or location."

"So, he knows you own a chocolate shop in Yorkshire. It wouldn't take much digging around to figure that one out."

Anna took a breath before speaking again.

"No one is coming to look for me. Just trust me that I know what I'm doing."

Gwen sighed, "Fine. Just please be careful. I worry is all."

"I know. Thank you for watching out for me."

"Always," Gwen smiled before they gave each other a brief embrace.

Later, Anna had finished with dinner and had gotten ready for bed. She closed her bedroom door and moved the items she had placed on her desk earlier to the floor except for the new letter. Switching on her lamp, she then switched off the over head light and sat down at her desk to read John's latest note.

Slitting it open, she pulled the pages out.

 _Dear Anna,_

 _I hope you've had a pleasant week. As I write I'm sitting here in my cell thinking of what to write to you. Every time I receive one of your letters it feels as though I have a portal to a world to which I no longer have access. Your words bring in a light amid the darkness. It troubles me that I can not bring you a form of light, and I would never offer you a portal to this world I'm living. For what does darkness have in common with the light? Your offer of friendship means a great deal to me. Throughout my life I haven't had very many of them, and it is more than likely because of my many faults. As I thought about what a friendship would entail, I know there is little I could possibly offer. I'm a failed man. Though I haven't seen you nor spoken to you, I feel as though you are a person without fault. I confess I wonder why a person with a kind soul like yours would even want to write to a person like me, though I have been truly happy you have even if I shouldn't be. I entered the writing program out of a selfish need for communication, and I don't need to write anyone else to know that I have been blessed by you, the light in my darkness. My mother passed away after a month of me being in here._

Anna paused her reading and plucked a tissue from the tissue box on her desk to dab her eyes. Looking down at the page she saw the ink smudged a bit on the words blessed and mother. She wondered if those had been his tears. Lifting the paper, it looked like small dots of wetness had dried. Her heart shattered for him. She pictured a good man with soulful eyes brimmed with tears. Of course she wasn't fooling herself, she knew he had to have a past and knew there were so many things she didn't know about him, but in her heart she could feel he was a noble man. It was apparent to her he was pouring his heart out on paper. The words had been so tenderly written. She thought what a silly beggar he was to think he was the only one being blessed. She wiped her eyes before reading again.

 _I never got to say goodbye and wasn't allowed to attend her funeral. It is one of the biggest regrets of my life out of many. My wife, Vera, also passed not much longer after my mother.  
_

She couldn't help but stop again. She could only think how cruel life could be sometimes, and how much pain John seemed to be in while writing this. He lost his mother and his wife. She hoped to find a way to comfort him as she focused again.

 _I consider their deaths part of my penance for the life I used to live._

Bringing the second page over the first one, she read on.

 _The willow stamp you selected is beautiful, and I just knew I felt some warm thoughts of ham and cheese enter my head while outside the other day, though turkey and cheese is my favorite. I apologize if I sound a mess. I just felt the need to express how thankful, yet unworthy I feel to communicate with you._

 _Your very undeserving friend,_

 _John Bates_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** _Same 1-8._

* * *

Her mind could only focus on John as she walked to work the next day. His last letter had been very different from his others. It was like he had lowered the wall he had hand crafted himself ever so slightly so she could peek inside; a chance for her to see a true part of himself. He had mentioned darkness in his letter. It felt like there had been a dark undertone present, but it hadn't been directed at her. He directed any negativity he had written towards himself. It made her ask why he thought he wasn't good enough to correspond with her. If it was because of the fact he was in prison, that fact alone didn't bother her. She knew first hand that good people could make wrong decisions and end up living a life in which they couldn't cope. When she sat down later that night she would make sure he understood that he was anything but unworthy.

Her work day came and went, and she decided to spend some of her evening in the village looking in the shops. After browsing a few different places, she stepped inside the bookshop on the corner. The shop keeper had kindly welcomed her, and she replied with a polite smile before walking the aisles. She had been trying to think of a way to cheer John up while working, which had led her to walking into the bookshop. In the time she had been participating in the pen pal program, she had never once done anything more than send the appropriate letter. It had never crossed her mind to do more, but earlier when she was dipping apples into toffee, she thought of sending something to him. There was nothing in the rules stating she couldn't send more than a letter, so she didn't see a problem there. The problem was would he feel comfortable with her giving him something, and why did she feel the overwhelming need to do so? They had been writing for almost two months, which wasn't much time at all, but it didn't seem to matter to her. This was different. He was different, and she could not allow him to stop writing her out of the notion he was somehow beneath her. She wanted their friendship to continue, and maybe a little something extra just this once would satisfy his doubts.

She combed through the titles and authors wondering what he might find enjoyable. He had probably read the books he had in his cell so much he didn't even have to open the books to read them anymore. As she came to the poetry section, she recalled he had specifically mentioned he liked it. She scanned the shelves until she saw a collection of poems by American poets. She removed the large book from the shelf and began to look through the book in search of a particular poem. It wasn't a long poem. On the contrary it was very short, but it was the perfect sentiment. When she found it, she knew she had to buy it. Closing the book, she walked up to the counter and paid for it.

* * *

John breathed in the newly spring air as he walked along the towering wall in the yard. The mild temperature felt pleasing as it blew across his stubble lined face. It had been six days sent he had posted his letter to Anna. He knew the post didn't always run on an exact schedule and sometimes she might not write right away, but his darker thoughts were telling him she wasn't going to write back not after his selfish emotional display. He had had no right to burden her. His mind was telling him it was too much for her, and it had probably frightened her for him to write that way.

"Bates."

Immediately breaking his thoughts, he shifted his eyes to who addressed him. Owen was approaching from his left.

"Malone," John greeted almost in surprise to be addressed by the quiet man.

Owen and John stopped walking as Owen said, "Mind if I?"

John faintly nodded his head and began walking again; this time with Owen walking along side him.

They walked for several minutes before Owen found the nerve to speak.

"So, you... you been here long?" He asked nervously.

John knew what it was like to not know anyone. It was hard to find out who you should talk to and who you shouldn't. It was lucky for Owen that he was one who wouldn't give him a hard time. He was never friendly per say, but he wasn't discourteous either.

"A bit over a year," John responded as he placed both hands in his pockets.

"You here for a while?" He said as he fidgeted with his hands.

"Five years."

"Me too."

One of John's eyebrows lifted in response. For whatever reason he hadn't expected him to say his sentence was the same.

"Got caught up in a drug ring. One moment I was a buyer the next I had been roped into selling. It isn't very hard to tell I wasn't very good at it."

Reflecting on the information he was just given, John could understand Owen's temperament a little better. His nervousness and quiet nature was probably a mixture of his natural behavior and detox. Even now he was continually fidgeting. A deep sigh left his lungs. Detox was an old friend of his, and one he never wished to visit again. For him though it hadn't been drugs. He had never touched more than a joint and that had only been on a couple of occasions. He had partaken in smoking cigarettes daily, but that wasn't anything compared to what was available out there. No, his vice had been alcohol and lots of it.

"You'll make it through fine while you're here as long as you're careful who you speak with and keep to yourself most of the time," John advised.

Owen nodded as he asked, "You do something similar?"

"No, I was a drunkard and a thief," he paused before saying, "In for felony theft."

Owen nodded and the two men turned to walk along the other side as they met the far corner of the wall.

"Did," Owen started before lowering his voice to just above a whisper. "Did you have a tough time without the drink?"

He barely glanced at John before turning his gaze to the area in front of him as he shoved his shaking hands into his pockets.

John didn't usually share what was going on with him. It didn't matter whether he was feeling horrible, feeling good, or feeling indifferent, he kept it to himself. In this case however, he could empathize with what the younger man was going through.

"I did, and I still do," he admitted even though he wasn't proud of it.

"So it never goes away?"

"The physical side will with time, but the mental side is harder to tame. In here, I know I won't be anywhere near it for a long time so that helps."

"Right. Thanks," Owen replied grateful to know his physical state would improve.

Only a short time later they were lining up to go back inside. John had continued to purposely be towards the back of the line. He didn't need Hyland or Farris in his business anymore than could be helped. Six days, he thought to himself as he patiently waited. That day would be seven if there wasn't anything for him. He sighed as the line moved before he felt his breath catch. What if she was ill? Maybe she had been feeling poorly and couldn't write to him. With his patience now evaporated, he internally cursed the queue he was standing in for going so slow. He was trying to think if there would be anyone to take care of her when he remembered she had a flatmate named Gwen. She hadn't spoken of any family, so if she was ill he hoped Gwen was looking out for her. The line moved forward steadily as he brooded away until he was next in line.

Setting his jaw, he walked up to the guard and focused on the pile of letters he held. The guard picked up an envelope and reached it out to him. The tension in his body relaxed slightly as he took the small packet and held it firmly in his hand. He walked the short distance to his cell and waited for the door to fully lock before he sat down at his table.

Looking at the envelope, there was a white dove on the postage stamp. A dove was a symbol of hope and peace, which had been two things he hadn't held on to for long. Maybe she was reminding him to have a little bit of both.

Needing to know what she had to say, he went about his routine of carefully opening the envelope and extracted the pages.

 _Dear John,_

 _Where am I even to begin to reply? I will just be as open with you as you were with me._

John took a deep breath in and released it slowly. Here goes nothing, he thought.

 _I usually never talk about the realities of prison because I know that would be the last thing you would want to talk about. Just know that the fact you are in prison does not put me off. I know you are in there for theft and that's all I know. This does not make up who you are, John. You're right. We have never seen nor spoken to one another, but I feel you are a good man._

"A good man," he said aloud to himself. Even though he was in prison, she was calling him a good man. It baffled him how she could come to such a conclusion even when he'd been sentenced as a thief. He had never had someone he barely knew be in his corner as firmly she she seemed to be. He started reading again.

 _Your need to be in the writing program isn't selfish. It shows you are a caring person who enjoys being sociable in his own way. We all have pasts, John. I know you feel as though you have little to offer, but I'm not looking to take from you. I'm looking to share with you and to be there and support you. What we offer to each other is unique, and I too consider you to be a blessing to me._

He stopped and leaned on the desk with his forearms as he still held the pages. His eyes smiled as they looked at the words 'blessing to me'. In all his life, his mother had been the only other person to call him a blessing. Now, he could add Anna to that list. How he could be a blessing to her he didn't know, but it meant so much to him he didn't want to question it.

 _I know you are curious as to why I participate in being some one's pen pal. I've only had a handful of previous pen pals. I've never shared this with any of them, but with you I feel like I can tell you anything. You see, Prison isn't a new thing to my family. My older sister, Rachael, ended up in prison for drug related charges. She had been in and out for a few years after my parents passed away in an accident. My parents died when I was 21, and Rachael was 24. My parents have been gone for 8 years now._

It wasn't the most appropriate thing to do at that very moment, but he couldn't keep from doing the simple math to reveal Anna's age. Twenty-nine, he thought to himself. He was fourteen to fifteen years her senior, but he would brood about that another time.

 _She couldn't seem to get out of her addiction, and so ended up in prison yet again for a much longer sentence. I am not completely without fault as you mentioned I may be. In my anger, I hadn't written to her in a few months, which now I wish I could take back more than anything. I received a call from the prison stating my sister had taken her own life, and the very next day I received the letter she had posted a day or so before she had. She hadn't been able to cope with her life or the death of my parents, and I know me being angry with her and not writing to her didn't help. It more than likely pushed her over the edge, which I hate myself for. She was a good person, but she couldn't come out of her situation. Prison wasn't who she was, it was just a consequence of her not being able to deal with events that had happened._

He brought the second page forward and laid them down on the table for a moment. He felt overcome with the need to embrace her. How thoughtless of him to assume she didn't have any pain or heartache in her life. She didn't have her parents nor her sister anymore, but she had been so kind to him. What a person she must be to be thoughtful and caring even though life events haven't been kind to her. He would have never guessed she had had family in prison, but her story made sense as to why she was part of the program. "Oh, Anna. I'm so sorry," he whispered to no one except himself. He truly felt sorry she no longer had her family. This was another thing they both had in common. Neither one of them had any family. Maybe she had been right. Maybe fate knew they needed to be there for each other. He looked back to the page again.

 _I needed to share this with you so you know why I'm part of the program. I want you to know I value our friendship, and I know prison doesn't define you just like it didn't define my sister. You are so much more than what society has labeled you. So much more._

His heart clenched in his chest as he felt her words echoing around his chest wall.

 _Sometimes when I re-read your letters I wonder if you are even guilty at all. You are more than worthy to communicate with me, and I hope by sharing a piece of myself with you you will understand that. I'm sorry to hear you couldn't be there during your mother's funeral. I don't doubt she loved you very much, and one day you will be able to go visit her. I'm also terribly sorry you lost your wife. I could not begin to imagine what sense of loss you feel. I wish I could take some of the burden from losing them both from you. I am thankful for you as well, and I hope you see our friendship is worth continuing. I'm enjoying getting to know you, and I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to._

 _P.S. - I'll order a turkey and cheese this week just for you._

 _P.P.S. - I'm still waiting on your shortbread recipe._

 _Your friend,_

 _Anna_


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** _Same 1-9._

* * *

"Anna, hurry it up," called Ethel from the sitting room.

"I'm almost done," Anna called back as she slipped her shoes on.

It was Friday night, and Gwen, Ethel, and Anna were going to dinner at a local pub. It had been a while since the three of them had done anything together, so they decided a casual night out would be nice.

"Okay, ready," Anna said as she came into the room where the other two were waiting.

"About time. I'm starving," Ethel replied.

Their trip to the pub was a short one. Once inside, they found an empty booth and took a seat.

"It's been too long since we've been here," Gwen commented as she passed out the menus from the end of the table.

"I know. We used to come to Clancy's at least once a week back in the day," Anna added.

"Just means you two are getting old," Ethel commented as she looked over the drink menu.

Anna and Gwen both scoffed.

"Oh please, I'm only two years older than you and one year older than Gwen," Anna stated.

"Still makes me the youngest, and I go out more than the both of you," Ethel reminded.

"Anyway, doesn't matter. We came out to have a good time, which means not talking about age," Gwen concluded.

"I agree," Anna said.

"I'm going to go up to the bar and order. You just want your regulars and a couple of apps?" Ethel asked.

"Yeah, thanks," said Gwen.

Ethel left then and headed towards the crowded bar. Anna took this opportunity to talk to Gwen privately.

"So, I had an interesting letter from John the last time he sent one," Anna began.

Gwen leaned forward with her hands on the table and said, "Is this something that can be talked about in public?"

"Gwen," Anna whispered harshly, "I'm not writing sordid things to him."

"Much to his disappointment I'm sure," she smirked cheekily.

Anna reached across the table and smacked Gwen's arm.

"Okay, sorry. What do you mean by interesting?" Gwen asked as she dramatically rubbed her arm.

"He was open with me in a way none of my others had ever been. He was feeling as though he didn't deserve to write to me because he's a man with a past."

"Of course he has a past, he's in prison, but it is sort of sweet he feels that way."

Anna smiled shyly. "It is isn't it?"

"I also found out his mum has passed, so he doesn't have any family," she continued as the smile disappeared.

"Well, in his case the pen pal program is a good thing then."

Anna nodded knowing Gwen was slightly referencing it would have been a good thing for her sister as well without saying it.

"I told him about Rachael," Anna confessed quietly.

"You did?" Gwen asked in shock.

"I did."

Gwen's mouth opened and shut before she formulated words.

"Anna, you've never told one of your pen pals about that before. He know about your parents too?"

Anna pressed her fingertips together while looking at them. She then laced her fingers and looked back to her friend.

"Yes, I felt like he needed to know, and I know I can trust him with what I've told him."

"I hope you're right. It seems like you two are talking about some pretty heavy stuff."

"It just sort of happened. I think he was feeling down or maybe having a bad week and started pouring his heart onto paper. I felt it only right to try to comfort him.

Gwen smiled, "Typical Anna. Always trying to be helpful and encourage others."

"Would you have me any other way?" Anna teased.

"Not for all the tea in China."

Anna was just about to start talking about something else to do with John but stopped talking as she saw Ethel walking their way. Ethel had been known for blurting out secrets, especially when intoxicated, so she wasn't ready to share the identity of her writing companion with her.

"Here we go," Ethel announced as she sat down their drinks.

* * *

John was sitting at his table thinking about the words he wanted to write as he wrote his reply to Anna. He had about a half a page done when he heard the lock begin to turn on his door. He quickly glanced at the shadow on the wall and noted it wasn't time for their mid-day meal, so he was alarmed as to why a guard would be entering his cell. Laying his pen down, he stood as the door opened fully and a guard stepped inside. He was carrying a sizeable package in his hands.

"This came for you, Bates," the guard stated.

John knitted his brow, looked at the package, and then back up to the guard.

"Are you sure it's for me?" John asked in bewilderment.

"Why else would I be here? You taking it or not?" The guard asked curtly.

John took one step forward and gently took the package into his grasp. The guard then left his cell and locked the door back.

John made his way over to his bed and sat down. The package was wrapped in brown mailing paper and tied with twine. It appeared it had been opened and put back together, but he knew the guards would fully check it over before giving it to him. Turning it over, he saw a now familiar hand had written his name on the paper and her name up at the top.

His breathing became shallow as it was dawning on him Anna had sent him something more than a letter. He had just received her letter yesterday and now today this package. He had never received anything while he had been there, and now that he had a package sitting on his lap he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He knew he had to open it, but what in the world could she have wanted to send?

Unable to keep himself in suspense any longer, he slowly untied the twine and unwrapped the paper. The look on John's face as he revealed the collection of poems by American poets looked like someone who had been extremely homesick had finally come home. His eyes misted over as his left hand touched the bright red cover of the book. His bottom lip quivered from the incredibly thoughtful gift. How did she know this was exactly what he needed?

Trying to keep his emotions at bay, he opened the cover and saw Anna had written a small note inside.

 _To my friend John,_

 _I hope you enjoy this small gift. When I saw it I thought of you._

 _Your friend Anna_

Her note made it seem like this was no big deal, but to him it was a very big deal. The book was large, and therefore, he would have a lot to read and re-read. His eyes crinkled as he pictured an angelic young woman picking out the book for him. She had already done so much for him without the need to know much about him, and he wondered if there could ever be an opportunity for him to do something thoughtful like this for her in return. He felt warmth spread across his chest from having this new piece of the outside world with him, and an object she had picked out while thinking of him. He pondered for a moment if she thought about him as much as he thought about her, and it was comforting to think that she might.

He shifted the book slightly and saw something barely sticking out of the top of the book. The item appeared to be a bookmark. He flipped to the page and saw a bookmark there with chocolate truffles all over the front of it. He chuckled as he picked it up and turned it to see chocolates all over the back of the bookmark as well. Holding the bookmark in one hand and the book in the other, he looked back down at the book to see why she had specifically marked that page. When he did, he saw a small poem where the bookmark had been laying.

 _The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand,_

 _nor the kindly smile nor the joy of companionship;_

 _it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when_

 _he discovers that someone else believes in him and is_

 _willing to trust him._

He had never been so thankful to be alone in his whole life. He became so emotional he had to slip the bookmark back into the book, close it, and place it on the bed. He stood to his feet and walked to his left so he could use the wall for leverage. Facing it, he placed an arm against the wall and leaned his forehead against it as tears fell steadily. He had been married for twenty-five years and had never received something so touching as this. Anna was a new person in his life, and yet here she was telling him through a poem that she believes in him and willing to place trust in him. He tried to remember if his deceased wife had ever suggested she felt either of those emotions and could not come up with any such memory.

He didn't know exactly what it was he was feeling, and he was glad the other men in here couldn't see him. If they could he would be raked over the coals for his weakness, but it wasn't weakness he was feeling. His chest felt full and warm, and he felt a sort of longing he hadn't felt in years, if he had ever felt it at all. Anna was doing something to him he couldn't yet describe.

He pushed himself off the wall a few minutes later and gathered himself. There needed to be no sign of tears by the time he was taken to the dining hall. He used his rough shirt sleeve to wipe the remaining tears and cleared his throat as he sat back down on the bed. He leaned forward and clasped his hands in his lap, looking to his right at the book. He had scarcely any possessions with him, mostly the few books he had in his cell and the items which were checked when he arrived: his clothes, his wallet, keys, his cane, and a gold pocket watch his mother had given him. Out of all of those things this was now his prized possession along with the letters and the pocket watch he'd had since he was eighteen, not because of the book itself, because of the small, intimate kindnesses that lay inside. All the small details she didn't have to add, but took the time to do so, were what he cherished most.

He relaxed his chest and took a deep breath. He looked over to the table and noted the half written letter there. There wouldn't be enough time now to finish it before their meal and yard time, so he would wait to finish until he was back in his cell with more time. A smile came to his face as he thought of what he would say about the book. He needed to express his gratitude.

Time ticked by as he got lost in his thoughts and now his cell door was being unlocked. He quickly placed his poetry book under his thin pillow along with the brown paper before standing to his feet. He looked in his peripheral to make sure he had covered it completely before the guard called his name.

"Bates."

John walked to the door and was escorted along with all the other inmates down to the hall.

Meal time came and went and now John was in the yard. He accepted the warm sun on his skin like an old friend. As was his habit, he began to stroll.

His thoughts went to Anna as he set up a leisurely pace. He wondered if she was taking her break right now, or if she was working away in her shop giving one too many samples to smiling children. A subconscious smirk spread across his face as the image of her kind soul giving sweets to laughing children came to him. He was glad her work brought her happiness. From her latest missive, she had had more than her fair share of grief and suffering. It sadden him greatly that she had lost both parents and her sister. He had lost his family as well, but not in the same way she had. He had his mother for a good portion of his life and had failed her for the most of it. He hoped the both of them could find some sort of comfort in knowing they were in similar boats in that regard. He wanted her to be comforted and cared for even if he could never be there for her in a physical state.

He paused his walking after some time to allow his knee a break. Placing his hands in his pockets, he breathed the air in deeply and smiled again. He couldn't wait to start reading his book, which he would save for after supper. He wanted to devour the contents yet read it as slowly as possible to savor it. It was a welcome problem to have for a change.

He was still standing in place thinking about the book when he was approached.

"Bates."

John jumped from hearing his name spoken loudly behind his back. He turned to see Glen and Lloyd standing there with fool grins on their faces. He immediately wanted to wipe their grins off their faces but resisted.

"Aren't you going to say hello, sunshine," said Glen.

Lloyd laughed, "Yeah, sunshine."

John stared at the pair of them with a blank expression, though inside he was brimming with several. He reminded himself not to bring his Irish temper to the conversation, while making sure they knew he wasn't going to lie down either.

"What do you want?" John asked neutrally.

"That's no way to address your pals," Glen responded.

"Is that what we are?" John asked as he set his jaw.

"Are you saying you're too good to talk to us?" Lloyd piped in.

"I would talk to you if a decent conversation could be had," John informed, feeling more annoyed.

"Like talking about your writing lass," Glen said.

This was the part of the conversation where he would have to keep a strong hold on his emotions. He knew where it was headed.

"I don't have time for your assumptions," John shot back.

"But you do have time to be walking around with a smile on your face and your head in the clouds," Glen remarked with a hand gesture towards the clouds.

He bit back what he truly wanted to say. It was highly offensive and would cause a row between them, so he fought his temper.

"It's a nice day. As everyone knows I always walk out here."

"What you really mean is you got a nice letter from that tart who writes ya," Lloyd commented.

"I bet she tells you all the things she'd like to be doin' to ya," added Glen.

John was glad his hands were still in his pockets because he knew his balled up hands were safer there.

"Not that I care, because I don't. Why are you interested in who I write?"

"Because you're so fecking pious. You walk around here like you're innocent, but we know how men like you tick. There is something off about a man like you. Most men would jump at the chance to talk about a pretty girl," Glen stated.

"No one ever said it was a woman or a man, and believe me there is something off about a couple of arses like you two looking to get his jollies off perverse conversation. And since you've mentioned it, I'm not like most men, so I suggest you stop approaching me about who I'm writing."

"Is that a warning?" Glen stepped forward.

"Yes. Yes, it is. I'm warning you," John replied with a deadly calm expression.

"Come on, Farris. Let's leave this holy prick to his feckin' day dreamin'," Glen huffed before turning to walk away.

Lloyd flipped John off before joining his so-called friend.

John's hands slowly started to relax the further they walked away. He thought he'd done well considering what the outcome could have been. His line of sight shifted to the right, and he saw Owen eyeing him from the other side of the yard. Owen nodded by way of checking to make sure he was okay. John nodded back in confirmation before turning to walk again.

* * *

 **Poem -** _Glory Of Friendship by Ralph Waldo Emerson_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** _Same 1-10._

* * *

Anna had fretted over the book ever since she had sent it, and now she held a grey envelope in her hand as she sat on her desk chair. This would tell her if he approved or not, and she was nervous to read his reply. Looking at the rough, grey paper she tried to think if she had ever been anxious about opening one of her pen pal's letters before. She had looked forward to them, but she could never recall feeling so wrapped up in what the other person might say. To her, his opinions and feelings were becoming to mean a great deal to her. She cared whether he was happy or sad, and she found herself also wondering what he meant, truly meant, to her.

She slit open the envelope and retrieved the contents inside. Without anymore hesitation, she unfolded the pages.

 _Dear Anna,_

 _It seems as though I was the cause for us to discuss some very personal matters. If my words caused you to feel like you had no choice but to share with me as well please know that was not my intent. I appreciate you for sharing this with me. I can not properly put into words my condolences on behalf of your parents and your sister. I must be honest and say you are an extremely strong person for continuing on with your life and succeeding at it. I am amazed by you. Please don't be too harsh on yourself when it comes to your sister. We have all done things in moments of anger we wished we hadn't, but isn't making mistakes what makes us human? Addiction can be so gripping especially when life seems too much to handle. It is easy to fall back into it time after time if you aren't completely dedicated to changing your life._

She paused to consider his wording and wondered if addiction was something he had dealt with before.

 _You are not the cause of Rachael's death, Anna. I know you helped her in anyway possible, and I know it must have been frustrating and heartbreaking at the same time to watch her go through it. Rachael knew how much you loved her and that you were there for her. I am absolutely sure of it._

Stopping, she shook her head with a sad smile. This man could not possibly know the whole circumstance, and yet he wrote to her exactly what she needed to hear. He knew, without really knowing, how she tried many times to help her sister. His surety in the matter drew her to him even more.

 _I also wanted to thank you for what you said about my mother. I very much look forward to finally paying my respects to her one day. As for my wife, our marriage had always been rocky at best. We married very young almost right out of school. We thought we were in love but found out quickly that wasn't the case. Neither one of us had the nerve to divorce the other, and I know it's wrong to say but I feel freer somehow without her. I never wished death upon her, but we were not meant to be married. She passed away from a severe case of pneumonia of all things. We were never a team. It was actually quite the opposite. We were never meant to be. She was not my soulmate._

She was shocked to read how he felt about his former marriage. Truthfully, she was expecting him to feel grief stricken about his wife, but that was not the case. Him stating she was not his soulmate made her shift in her seat.

 _I had to pause my writing and come back to it because I received a package from a guard just now. Would you happen to know anything about that? Are you smiling slyly? I wasn't expecting something like this at all, but thank you for this gift._

Anna chuckled and lightly bit her bottom lip. She could tell he was teasing her, and she was more than pleased with herself that he liked the book. She flipped the page.

 _The book is amazing, and I'm glad you thought of me while picking it out. You've given me something I truly needed._

She figured he meant the book itself, but what if he meant he truly needed someone to believe in him and trust him? The poem she had bookmarked had told him she would do both. Maybe that was his cryptic way of telling her, and to her surprise she hoped that was the case.

 _The chocolate bookmark was a perfect addition as well. It will make me think of you every time I pick up the book. And while I'm thinking of it I'm glad your work brings you happiness. I was walking in the yard earlier today and I pictured, well what I could I should say, you working away in your shop and giving one too many samples to some overly excited children. I'm not sure if you do really, but it seemed like something you would do. Anyway, thank you again for the absolute perfect gift. This is my first package since I've arrived here, and if you ever need to talk about things that are bothering you or weighing on your mind know that I'm here. I would never dream of not continuing to write you._

 _P.S. - Thank you for ordering the turkey and cheese. I felt as though I could taste it._

 _P.P.S.- Chocolate shortbread cookies_

 _227g unsalted butter, softened, 1 teaspoon salt, extra-fine if possible, 198g sugar, 28g dark cocoa, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, 206g all-purpose flour_

 _Preheat the oven to 148°C. For thin, crisp shortbread, grease two 20.32cm square pans. For thicker shortbread, grease one 22.86cm square pan._ _To avoid over-creaming, I recommend that you stir the dough by hand. In a medium-sized bowl, stir together the butter, salt, and sugar until well blended._ _Add the cocoa, vanilla, baking powder, and flour, and mix until you have a smooth, slightly stiff batter._ _Press the dough into your prepared pan(s) and prick all over with a fork._ _Bake the shortbread in two pans for 35 to 40 minutes; the single 22.86cm pan will take about 50 minutes. Remove from the oven and cool for 5 minutes._ _Invert the pan(s) over a clean sheet of parchment and turn out the shortbread. While still warm, cut each square into 12 pieces. Cool completely before serving._

 _You'll have to let me know if you make them._

 _Your friend,_

 _John_

She laid the letter on her desk as her heart pounded in her chest. She was trying to decipher how she felt about John thinking of her and trying to picture her. It would be untrue to suggest she had never tried to picture him as well. She more than once thought about a pair of eyes and what may go along with them. Her heart and her brain where having a momentary battle. Yes, she wanted to be John Bates' friend and pen pal, and her brain told her that was more than enough. Her heart on the other hand was suggesting maybe there was more, but her mind was there to block her heart's path. It was a silly thought to think there could ever be more between them wasn't it? For one, she had no idea how long he would be in prison. Secondly, she couldn't have feelings of that kind for someone she had never met. Thirdly, well, she couldn't come up with a third.

Picking up the letter again, she smiled at his teasing and telling her of how he pictured her being overly friendly with samples to eager children, which she did. It was like he knew her already in ways some people she had known a long time didn't. Each letter unfolded another part of him. She was very blessed indeed with his friendship.

* * *

John huffed out a sigh of relief as his back hit the mattress. It was a Thursday, so he had had a full first half of the day. He enjoyed the days he got to work. After working, dealing with the dining hall, and their yard time though, he was ready for a break. He propped his head up as best he could with his pillow and then raised the small packet he had received from the guard only minutes prior. The top right corner this time was stamped with a cross with a purple robe draped over it.

Needing to see her words, he carefully opened the envelope. Taking the pages in hand, he noted there were three pages this time. His eyes lit up at all she might have said, and he unfolded them quickly.

 _Dear John,_

 _You are quite a silly beggar if you think you in any way forced me to share about my parents and sister with you. I told you because I wanted to tell you, and because I wanted you to know everyone has faults. Your words were exactly what I needed. For a couple of years I completely blamed myself and was in a bad place, but with the help of Gwen and some others I slowly started coming out of my self loathing. To know you think that I'm succeeding at life and that I'm strong gives me even more strength and determination to live life fully. Thank you, John. I don't know if addiction is something you've dealt with either personally or in your family. If it is, or was, I hope for the best outcome. I've never had an addiction, though in those rough years I admit I contemplated the idea of losing myself to one. I realized though it would not have brought my family back, and I had too much to give to the world to throw it all away. It isn't my place to ask you if you do, but if so I know you will beat it. I believe in you._

His chest tightened with emotion. He was starting to wonder if her letters would always make him so raw with emotion. He felt himself delighted being called silly beggar, while at the same time felt his insecurity pop up at her speaking of addiction. No, this wasn't the same as her sister's but that didn't mean it wasn't as consuming; Not having access to alcohol was one of the very few things he could thank prison for. What would she think if he did reveal that part of himself? Would she want to have another person in her life who had been down a similar path, but he wasn't exactly _in_ her life was he? He pulled himself from brooding too deeply, so he could keep reading.

 _I want to be honest and say I didn't expect your comments about your wife. Please do not think I think you are wrong in how you feel because I don't. As you said aren't mistakes what make us human? I'm only sorry you were in a long marriage to someone you didn't feel was your soulmate. You deserve no less than someone who will be just that. You deserve someone who will be your biggest support, your confidante, and someone who makes you deliriously happy. Life is too short to not spend it with the one you dream about._

He closed his eyes for a few seconds to reflect. If only she knew he dreamed of her every night and every day truth be told. She filled his thoughts repeatedly. Opening his eyes, he picked up where he left off.

 _I myself have never been married. I've only had one serious relationship in my life and that was before my parents passed, and I was young. His name was Kyle, and I thought he was everything I could ever want. At the time that was nice hair, good looks, charm, and money, but when my parents passed he decided that was a good time for us to break up. He didn't 'have the time to be that emotionally available' as he put it. It was a time I thought I could depend on him the most, but he cut all communication with me the every next day._

A surge of anger brimmed just under the surface of him at this Kyle. What kind of man would do such a thing to her? He would have held her and comforted her in any way she needed. That bastard was a fool for tossing aside someone like her. He shuffled to the second page.

 _Since then I've never really went more than a few dates every now and then. I didn't see a point in a long relationship if there wasn't a strong underlying connect between me and the other person. I believe in soulmates as well, and no one I've come across in person has come close to being the one. So, I sort of understand what you mean when you say you feel freer without her. I thought Kyle hung the moon, but in the end I was much freer without him. Changing subject, I am so glad you like the book. I was hoping you wouldn't think it too forward of me to send it to you. I was leaving work for the evening and decided to look in on some shops near by. There is an older book shop on the corner full of character. I seem to be drawn to it for all my book purchases. I know I could order them online, but something about being inside the book shop and getting to touch the books makes the selecting process much more enjoyable. When I came to the poetry section I couldn't help but think of you, and I just had to send you the book once I saw the collection. I hope the poetry is enjoyable. Your assumption that I give out too many samples to children was correct. I love children and seeing them happy is a great reward. My work does make me happy, and I'm thankful I am able to employ a few people as well. So, how have you been? Yesterday was Easter so Gwen and I attended church. Easter was quite late this year. I don't go to church as often as I should. I believe in God, and I know he has plans for me. But I still don't go to services that much. Prayer has been a part of my life though and has helped me to know there is a God who hears them. Isn't it funny how most people make a fuss over what to wear specifically on Easter and Christmas services? It's one of the times most ladies pull out whatever bonnet or hat they have stored in the closet to wear on Easter Sunday. I did this as well and don't laugh at me! My white bonnet matched my pink dress very well just so you know._

He brought the third page to the front with a grin.

 _I forced Gwen to wear hers as well in case I was the only one who decided to keep with tradition, but I wasn't. I'm so glad to hear from you, and you can always talk to me about anything as well. I'm thrilled you've decided not to cast me aside just yet. ;) Well, it's time for me to go to sleep. I have to wake up before the crack of dawn to start prep before the shop opens. I love a good lie in though I don't get to often enough. I'm not a morning person, and it takes at least two cups of tea to get me motivated. I'm guessing you're a morning person though. Did I guess right? I'm also making your shortbread ASAP. You are quite good at writing out recipes.  
_

 _P.S. - Game changer. I'm going by the curry shop sometime at the end of the week. I'll be sending thoughts your way._

 _Your friend,_

 _Anna_

He laid the pages on his chest before lacing his hands behind his head. His eyes closed as he thought of a loving smile, a white bonnet, and pink dress. He felt lighter that he had someone he could talk with. He had been forced to keep his private life under lock and key much like his physical body was in the cell. With Anna, he could tell her things and discuss topics which he couldn't discuss with anyone else. She was his escape from his current reality, but yet more than that at the same time. He thought about her thinking of him and wondered if she thought of him as much as he did her. He knew she had so many things to think about during the day, so it was more likely he thought of her more often. His vision shifted to seeing her smile in the book shop, and this time he was there with her. Even in his day dream he couldn't fully envision her, but he was there in the book shop and he could feel her there with him. They roamed the aisles chatting back and forth about certain authors or titles that interested them. They talked quietly and softly chuckled until they found a novel to purchase. He paid for the book and tucked it under his arm as they strolled down to the park. Sharing a bench, he opened the book and began reading to her as the sun started to reach the horizon. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, and he hummed in satisfaction from the touch.

His eyes snapped open. He carefully moved the sheets of paper to the side before rubbing his hands over his face. He couldn't possibly continue to think the way he was thinking. It was only a day dream, but he shouldn't have dreamed them being close physically. Anna was a young, ambitious, kind, and beautiful person. He didn't need to see her body to know she was beautiful. Her soul told him so. She told him she believed in soulmates, and he knew one day she would find hers. He had a ludicrous wish in his heart that he could maybe one day have a chance to be hers, but he knew that was a slim to none chance. He would be in prison for another almost three and a half years now. Over time as he stayed locked up she would meet someone who would fill what she was looking for, someone worthy of her. His life was like a knotted up ball of yarn, useless until all the knots and kinks were removed which would take more time than anyone would put up with. She deserved a nice life with a home and a family if she wanted them. She didn't need more baggage; she had enough on her own. Friendship was more than enough, and he would continue to tell himself that.

* * *

"Gah, why did you ask me to meet you here," Gwen complained as she eyed all of Anna's sweets in the display case.

"Because the cafe is round the corner, and we agreed not to be hauled up in the flat all evening," Anna replied as she finished up cashing out the register.

"I know. Maybe I should wait outside," Gwen responded as she tore her eyes away from the sweets.

"Maybe you should just have a piece," Anna smirked before she secured the money in the safe.

Gwen eyed the case as Anna took off her apron.

"Okay, only one though," Gwen said firmly to herself.

"Which one?" Anna asked as she walked to the case.

"That one. No," Gwen said then changed her mind.

She scanned the case with her pointer finger until she was pointing at a mint truffle.

"That one."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Anna used a small pair of tongs to collect the truffle and placed it on a small napkin.

"Good pick,"Anna said as Gwen took the treat.

Anna collected her things as Gwen took her first bite.

"Oh my Godddddd," she exclaimed as she chewed.

Anna placed her purse strap over her shoulder and walked over to Gwen with an inward chuckle.

"Good?"

"Never. I mean never offer me a job here even if I come begging for one," Gwen stated before eating the other half of her truffle.

"If you insist. Ready to go now?"

"Mmhhmm..." Gwen replied with her mouth closed as she savored the minty delight.

Anna locked up the shop, and they walked down the street to the bistro. It wasn't busy so they were seated quickly in the front patio area. They placed their orders before they started to talk.

"I licked so many envelopes today that my tongue feels gross," Gwen complained.

She was the secretary to the CEO of Grantham's, Robert Crawley. Grantham's was a very high end home decor chain. There were several spread out among England. Gwen had become his secretary almost a year ago.

"Did your boss have you send out another worthless memo to all employees?" Anna smirked.

"He just likes to send out motivating thoughts and ideas to drive sales. I don't know if it really helps," Gwen responded as their drinks were brought to the table.

Anna took a long sip of her red sangria before teasing, "So, therefore, worthless."

Gwen chuckled, "Maybe but I'm lucky Mr. Crawley is a good and fair employer. He treats all of his employees well."

"I remember how excited you were when you finished your courses in typing and short-hand, and then were offered the post," Anna smiled.

"I was and still am. I know most people wouldn't consider being a secretary a good job nowadays, but I love what I do. The only downside is maybe his eldest daughter, Mary. She is quite intimidating honestly."

"You've mentioned some of his family works for him. Doesn't one of his daughters select most of the inventory they sale?"

"That would be Mary. She oversees what items are to be stocked or removed. She knows what she's talking about because people buy what she selects to place in the stores."

They stopped for a minute as the waiter brought their food. They thanked him politely before picking up where they left off.

"I must have mistaken her for Edith," Anna said.

"I don't know how you could have done that."

"I've never met them, but I remember hearing the name Edith."

Gwen swallowed her food before replying, "That's probably because she works for Contemporary and Lace magazine. She owns the magazine with her husband Bertie Pelham. Grantham's is highlighted in their magazine every month."

"That's right. That's where I've heard the name."

"Enough about work. How are you? It's sad I have to ask that since we share a flat."

Anna laughed. "We do, but we don't talk every day and sometimes we don't even cross paths."

"True, so how are you? How is John?"

"I'm well, and I believe John is too."

"Great."

"I... recently sent him something," Anna prompted.

"What do you mean by sent him something?" Gwen asked before she took a sip of her drink.

Anna fiddled with her napkin in her lap as she answered, "I sent him a book. A poetry book."

"Well, that is something new. You've not sent more than a letter before."

"I know, but it just felt right to send it to him. He told me he really liked it."

"What kind of poetry," Gwen asked with one eyebrow cocked.

"It was a collection of poems by American poets."

"And here I was assuming it would be love poems," Gwen smirked.

Anna looked flustered as she asked, "Why would you think that?"

Gwen placed her fork down on her plate and said, "I don't know. You seem to have different feelings for John than you have your others."

"He's just really easy to talk to," Anna stated.

"He's really easy to talk to, you have some things in common, he's polite, and you sent him a gift. Sounds as if your feelings are starting to go beyond friendship, which again I hope you think about carefully."

"I just thought he could use some cheering up is all. I'm not saying I have deeper feelings for him."

She didn't say it aloud, but maybe she did in fact have deeper feelings.

"No you didn't, but just by how you look when you talk about him I can see something there."

They talked a while longer as the topic of conversation changed. After they finished their meal, they walked back to their flat while Anna thought about what her feelings meant.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Thank you to kyrandiana for the shortbread theme suggestion. It's adding in nicely to the story._


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** _I hope you are enjoying reading this story as much as I am enjoying writing it. The future chapters have me excited!_

 **Disclaimer:** _Same 1-11._

* * *

"Here you go, sweetheart," Anna said sweetly as she handed a little girl a sample of chocolate fudge.

"What do you say to Miss Anna," said the girl's mother.

"Thank you, Miss Anna," the little girl responded with a smile with a few missing teeth.

"You're welcome. I hope you like it."

Anna wrapped up her customers order and wished them a great day before Daisy brought a fresh batch of chocolate clusters to the display case.

"Those look amazing," Anna complimented Daisy's work.

"Thanks. I've got another tray of them to put out after this one."

Just then Jimmy Kent, one of Anna's other employees, came back into the shop from his break.

"You're ten minutes late, Jimmy," Anna mentioned as she started stocking some gift boxes.

"I got caught up on Instagram, sorry Anna," he apologized quickly.

"You taken your usual fifty selfies a day again?" Daisy teased.

"You have to get the right light and angle before posting to Instagram. Everyone knows that," he replied, looking affronted.

"I don't mind what you do on your break just be back in time," Anna added.

"Yes, Anna," Jimmy said before he started cleaning.

"Thank you. I'll be headed on my break now. Do either of you need me for anything before I do?"

"No," Jimmy replied.

"Nah, go on," Daisy insisted.

Anna hung up her apron and collected her purse. The strap laid across her body, which made it easier for her to use both hands. She had gone to the curry shop last week just like she had written to John, but today it was back to her sandwich shop. She walked inside and ordered. She started getting a turkey and cheese at least once a week because it was his favorite, and she found she enjoyed the sandwich herself.

With her order in hand she walked to the park and sat underneath the tree she usually sat under for shade. She thought of him as she ate the sandwich and felt bad that he wasn't there to enjoy one with her. She found herself wishing he was there with her under the tree, eating and talking. It would be nice to enjoy his company in person.

When she finished she reached inside her purse and pulled out her unread letter. With sure hands she released the pages from their confines.

 _Dear Anna,_

 _Hello, my friend. I hope you've been well since you've last written. I'm doing as well as I can be. I have been busy this morning working in the mending room, which I haven't told you yet about. I guess that means I have something new to share. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I get to work in the mending room. It's for those of us either with lesser sentences or crimes. Those with life sentences work in the laundry, kitchen, and some other areas. For a few weeks we had been hand stitching denim jeans, but now we've moved on to knitting socks. I would much rather be working with denim. A bunch of men sitting around knitting socks isn't exactly a picture worth painting. It looks very silly to be honest, especially those who end up with an unmanly color. I got a sky blue color to work with, but that's our secret._

She giggled at the thought of him and the other men knitting socks.

 _It's good to know you had people in your life to help you during that time. My words to you were just the truth. You are strong, and you will succeed at anything you put your mind to. Thank you for understanding about my wife. I don't want to sound cold, but if I had of had the courage I would have divorced Vera many years ago. I would also be living a different life, but you can't go back can you? I guess that's why they say to live in the present and not in the past as hard as that can be sometimes._

Anna's cogs began turning in her head as she read between the lines of his words. Did his late wife have something to do with his imprisonment? Is that what he was saying without saying it? Her curiosity about how John ended up in prison in the first place heightened.

 _You may think me silly, but I have a strong urge to tell Kyle what a fool he is. He was never worthy of you in the first place. Leaving you when you needed him most, that makes him anything but a man. He may not have had the time to be 'emotionally available' but the right man for you will always be available to listen to you and be there for you._

Like you have been, she thought to herself.

 _So, I'm sorry that scum treated you that way. You deserve way more than he could have ever offered you. Anna, as we get to know more of each other I find that I want to always be open and honest with you. You wanted to know if I ever had an addiction and the truth is I did, I do. And no you aren't forcing me to tell you about it. I want to tell you. My addiction wasn't drugs; it was alcohol. I've been drinking since before I was even old enough, but it was never a problem until after I came back from Iraq. I served in the Queen's army most of my young adult life, but ended up with an injury that ended my military career._

It wasn't really an appropriate time, but she felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach. This information added a whole another layer to John. She was now thinking of a Celtic warrior, making her breathing more shallow. Here he was trying to be open about his affliction while she thought about how handsome he must be. Taming her ardor, she turned to the second page and focused back on the letter.

 _A sniper shot me through my knee as I pushed my commanding officer out of the way. The healing process took a long time. I didn't handle everything the way I should have and ended up finding solace in the bottom of many bottles. My alcoholism ebbed and flowed for years after my leg healed as good as it was going to. Prison has actually helped me with that part of my life. I have no access to it in here and find each day it gets a little easier to not think about it. I'll always consider myself to be a recovering alcoholic, but I made a promise to myself when I get out to never return to it again. That's not who I want to be anymore._

Should she be cautious in taking interest in a man with a former addiction? Probably. But she found him even more alluring because of his determination to not go back to it. She believed he was telling the truth that he wasn't the same man he was then, and she felt concern over the fact he had been shot.

 _Me liking the book is an understatement. I love it, and I have been reading it every evening. The book shop you mentioned you visit would it happen to be The Printed Page? Yellow door, warm wood interior, faded leather chairs for reading? If it is, I've visited there on several occasions. I couldn't agree more that going to the book shop is a much better experience than buying online. I don't know if I could ever go digital. There's something about having a book in your hands._

Anna's mouth gaped open. Sometimes she could forget he lived in the same county she did. He described The Printed Page perfectly, and she felt the oddest sensation at the thought they had shared the same space at one time, just not at the same time.

 _We celebrate Easter differently here as I'm sure you're not surprised. The chaplain held a small service in the chapel, but I didn't attend. I was raised Catholic, but the older I got and the more life I experienced the less I could feel God's presence. I highly respect your ability to know he is watching out for you._

So, he wasn't religious. She respected his stance as much as he did hers.

 _Your white bonnet and pink dress sound like the perfect Easter wear. I myself don't mind getting dressed up if the occasion calls for it. Cast you off? I may be a convict, Ms. Smith, but I'm not stupid. You brighten my days like no one has in a very long time. So, you guessed right. I consider myself a morning person, but really I'm an insomniac. Sleep comes and goes as it wishes for me. Well, time is running out for me. I gotta get this in the post so you can read it quicker. I hope your work week goes well._

 _P.S. - Curry? That's a set of flavors I haven't thought about in ages. Also, I'm curious as to how you take your tea._

 _Your silly beggar,_

 _John_

She giggled and held the pages to her chest when she finished. Yes, he was her silly beggar. Maybe Gwen had been right about her feelings being deeper than friendship but what exactly could be done about it? Even if she wanted to explore such feelings he was imprisoned. He would still be in there and she would be out here. She looked out across the park as she tried to think of how it could possibly work. It was then it hit her.

She could go visit him.

She could write back and ask him if he'd be willing to meet her. She knew prisoners could have visitors, even if it was through bullet proof glass and talking through a telephone. Maybe if she met him in person then she could explain how she was feeling. She had never went to visit anyone in prison, except for her sister, but she was willing to go meet the man who invaded her every thought. The thought of him accepting her proposal made her cheeks flush pink. Maybe this could be the start of something she never thought could possibly happen.

* * *

"Bates," said one of the guards who patrolled his cell block as he opened his cell door.

John stood and addressed the guard, "Yes, Mr. Williams."

"You've got a new cellmate," he announced.

"Shhhiiitttt," John said loudly in his own head. That was the last thing he wanted to hear.

The guard stepped aside and John waited with nervous tension to see who would be walking through the door.

His expression remained stoic as the man walked into the cell and the guard told him who it was.

"This is Leonard Langley. I suggest the two of ya get to know the other."

At that, the guard closed the door and locked the two men inside.

John hated he didn't have warning before another person was thrust into his tiny space. The two men simply stared at the other before the other man spoke.

"John Bates. Never thought I'd be sharing a shit hole with you," he said with no expression.

John had made it his business to try his best to remember names, faces, and associations. He didn't know much at all about Leonard Langley, but he knew of him and knew he had seen him talking to Hyland and Farris on more than one occasion.

"Neither did I," John replied indifferently.

The middle-aged, stout, bald headed man looked to the beds and said, "Guess it's the top one for me since you've got a bum leg."

John didn't answer back as Leonard hoisted himself to the top bunk. Instead, he sat down on his bed and internally mourned. His alone time was gone now for who knew how long. He hoped it would be short term and soon he would have his cell to himself again. He immediately felt the loss of his sense of privacy.

His eyes shifted to the table against the opposite wall.

His letters. His book.

He would have to be more careful than ever now that he had another set of eyes in his space. His letters would need to find a new home as well as his book, and the days of openly expressing his emotions were gone until his was alone again.

He knew he was going to be questioned as soon as he collected his letters, but he already felt the primal urge to protect them along with his book.

He stood and walked over to the table. He calmly placed the envelopes into the book as to not rouse suspicion, but it didn't work.

"Letters from home?" Leonard asked from his bunk.

"Yes," John answered simply before he sat back down on the bed. He turned his body to look at the wall and lifted the top corner of the mattress. He then tucked the book and all the letters underneath before he released the mattress.

"I had a girl I was going to marry before I ended up in here," Leonard said.

John couldn't care less about the man's personal life and refrained from commenting as he laid the length of his mattress, trying to forget about the man who now laid above him.

"Not much of a talker are ya?" Leonard noted.

"No, I'm not," John replied neutrally.

"My last cellmate talked so much he even talked in his sleep, so I guess you're a welcome change."

John wanted to tell him that he wasn't a welcome change but didn't reply. He had very much liked having the cell to himself.

A long silence spread out then, and John was able to somewhat tame his severe disappointment by thinking of Anna. She could always lift his spirits when he was feeling down. He knew it was getting closer to mid-day and hoped a letter would be waiting for him after yard time. After the surprise of Langley he could use some of Anna's wonderful words to make the rest of the day better.

Before too long they had both been escorted, along with the rest of the men, to the dining hall.

"Well, don't you look pissed right off," Felix tried to tease as John sat down with his tray.

Owen looked at Felix and then to John who just eyed Felix.

"Sorry, mate. I was only joking," Felix back pedaled.

John sighed heavily and said, "I've acquired a new one."

Felix was about to respond when Owen spoke first.

"A new what?"

"A new cellmate," John responded as he looked down at his food.

"Who?" Felix asked quietly as he raised his spoon to his mouth.

John said into his water glass, "Leonard Langley."

Felix's eyes scanned the hall until his eyes landed on Leonard. He dropped his stare back to his tray as he commented, "Could have been worse."

"Who is he?" Owen asked in a hushed tone.

"He's to the right second table over; stocky, bald, faced this way."

Owen casually looked in that general direction until he saw the man who fit Felix's description. He looked back down as soon as he knew who it was.

"I don't know much about him," John stated.

"From what I know he's all right. I don't think it would take much for him to back stab though. I'd keep an eye on him."

John nodded, and they finished the rest of their meal in silence.

When yard time was over John had waited patiently in the queue for the post. His patience was rewarded with a beautiful packet full of Anna's words. His eyes held a smile to them as he stepped back into the cell, but his demeanor changed when he saw Leonard sitting on his bunk.

"Another lucky day for you then," Leonard commented as he saw the envelope in John's hand.

John ignored him and sat down on his bed as close to the wall as possible so Leonard couldn't see him.

"Letter from your wife or kids?"

"No," John answered.

Leonard snapped his fingers and said, "Oh, yeah. That's right. You joined the pen pal program months back. You liking it? I've thought about joining himself."

It wasn't that John didn't want to be friendly. He wished he could talk to these people, but he knew it would do him no favors.

"I don't wish to talk about it," John replied.

"Suit yourself."

John waited until he heard Leonard nodding off before he looked at the postage stamp which was a Shakespeare quote 'To thine own self be true'. He then proceeded to quietly open the packet and unfold the pages.

 _Dear John,_

 _Hello, you. It's wonderful to hear you are doing well. Your knitting adventure made me laugh. It was definitely a picture worth painting. How funny it is that you would get light blue as that is my favorite color. I have no doubt your knitting is just as good as your sewing. A woman would be very lucky to have a man in her life whose hands can perform such delicate work. I bet you use your thick knitting needle masterfully._

John swallowed roughly as he re-read Anna's not-so-subtle innuendo. Could she be thinking of him in an intimate manner? To his disbelief, it appeared she was.

 _It's also good to know you get to work. At first I thought I was surprised by you being a military man, but then I thought it suited you. Is this what you've always done? Thank you for being honest with me about your alcoholism. I know it is not an easy thing to talk about. I'm so proud you have the determination to rise above it. Only good things can come from it, and I feel like I already know you aren't the person you once were._

So, she didn't rebuff him for telling her about his drinking problem. Instead, she was telling him how proud she was. She never ceased to amaze him.

 _The book shop I visit is in fact The Printed Page. It brings me comfort to know we have both enjoyed the small shop even if it was unfortunately not at the same time. I sat under my tree in the park today to read your letter. It is nice to read your words in the middle of my day, and if I'm having a bad day your words make my day so much better. So, my birthday is next Wednesday. I don't usually make plans for my birthday because I am working most of the time, but after the shop closes Gwen, my colleague Daisy and her beau William, and my friend Ethel are taking me out. I rather hope it's to somewhere I can dance ,though they aren't telling me. I don't really like clubbing, but it's one of the few places where you can go dancing. Do you like to dance? I enjoy it but never seem to get around to doing it a lot. I think they are trying to cheer me up because I will be the big 3-0. I guess I should be sitting around hating the fact I'm turning thirty, but I'm not. The thirties will be a brand new chapter for me, and I'm looking forward to what it holds. I do have something I would like to talk to you about, John._

This gained his full focus and made him shift to sit more upright.

 _I don't know really how to start other than to go ahead and ask my question. Would you mind if I came to visit you?_

His heart stopped. His breathing stopped. He was pretty sure the Earth had stopped spinning. Had the sun suddenly shifted closer to Earth in the process?

 _I know this is not a normal request from a pen pal, but I feel like we are more than pen pals._

He couldn't be reading what he was reading could he?

 _You are in York which isn't far away, and I feel like we could get to know one another better if maybe I came to visit on occasion. I know it is a lot to ask, and if I'm being too pushy I apologize. It was just something that crossed my mind as I thought of you today, and I needed to ask. It would be so nice to meet you even if it was only once. Please just think about it, and if not we will continue to write to one another as we have been. I love your company in whatever form._

 _P.S. - I take my tea with milk and two sugars. I like it sweet. And you?_

 _Yours,_

 _Anna x_

He silently cursed Leonard for being in the cell. He would have to internally process all of this. Anna was asking to come visit him. When he signed up for the program he never imagined the other person to be willing to be anything other than pleasant conversation. This letter had taken a different tone. He knew she was suggesting they could maybe have something more than friendship but that could not be. He could not allow her to invest more than friendship in him.

God, he would love nothing more than to meet her, but it wasn't right. He didn't want Anna to meet him in these conditions, and he didn't want her sitting around for the next few years waiting on something he couldn't give. The vision of Hyland and Farris flashed before his eyes, which would be a whole other reason for her to stay away from there. If he had a visitor the gossip would flow like a steady stream. Some of the guards would give into the gossip and share details of what she looked like and spread other things he didn't want to think about. She didn't deserve to be talked about in the way he knew she would be. He would have to explain carefully why he didn't want her to visit.

He looked to how she signed off and felt a heat crawl up his neck.

 _Yours_

He closed his eyes and thought about how good it sounded in his head for her to call herself his, but how could she be his in their situation? None of it was right, none of it at all. He couldn't allow himself to live in a selfish delight. Anna was worthy of so much more than being involved with a man in prison. There wasn't much at all he could do from where he was, but he hoped to make it up to her somehow.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** _Same 1-12._

* * *

Anna was curled up on the couch as Gwen entered the flat. Anna turned her head to see who was coming through the door before she focused back on her book.

"This was in our box for you," Gwen smiled as she lightly shook a small package in one hand and held an envelope in the other.

Anna looked up and quickly closed her book as Gwen rounded the couch.

"What?" Anna asked as she stared at the grey, prison issued envelope and then stared at the box.

"Looks like John sent you a birthday present," Gwen replied with a knowing look.

It was the day before her birthday, but it was close enough.

"I checked our post box earlier and nothing was there," Anna commented as her eyes never left the box.

Gwen sat down and handed both items over to Anna.

"Well, good thing I checked then. What do you think it could be? What could he send you from prison?" Gwen asked as they both looked at the package.

"I... I don't know," Anna answered truthfully.

"Maybe it's something you should open in private. Who knows what a convict might send a woman," Gwen said with mirth.

"Gwen," Anna tried to respond seriously but her smile gave her away. "John wouldn't send me something inappropriate."

At least she thought it wouldn't be. She had been pretty forward with a few things in her last letter.

"Then go on and open it," Gwen encouraged.

Anna smirked and faintly blushed as she shifted the box in her lap.

"Okay."

She worked a few seconds with the packing tape before she freed the cardboard flaps. Opening the box, the object inside was wrapped in brown packing paper.

She pulled it out and unwrapped what was inside.

A wide smile spread across Anna's face as she held a pair of light blue socks.

"Socks?" Gwen asked as she scrunched up her nose.

Anna began tearing up as her fingertips lightly touched them.

"I would cry too if I received socks for my birthday," Gwen said as she watched a tear fall down Anna's cheek.

Anna shook her head as she continued to smile. "They're perfect."

Gwen looked at her like she was crazy. "You're not hard to please."

"He made these himself. He was telling me about all the men making them."

"In that case, I'll leave you and your perfect gift be," Gwen offered, sensing her friend needed some time to herself.

Anna only nodded in reply before Gwen stood up and went to her room.

She sat the box on the low table in front of her and then laid the socks across her lap. This sweet, sweet man sent her the only thing he was most likely allowed to send or had access to to send. It touched her that he had attempted to send her anything at all. She touched the socks again and felt the soft texture. His hands had made them and that was what she loved most about them.

Remembering she also had a letter, she picked it up and opened it.

 _Dear Anna,_

 _I hope this letter finds you at least close to your birthday, and by now you may have received your gift. If not, I don't want to spoil the surprise. All I want to say is you deserve more than I was able to send you. I was glad I was able to purchase them because it would not do to let your birthday pass without you receiving a gift, but please know I wish I could have given you more. Your birthday outing sounds like a good time. I agree you should be out celebrating your day doing whatever your heart desires. Do I enjoy dancing? I do, but I'm more of a swaying slowly kind of dancer. The upbeat dancing isn't really within my comfort zone, but a slow dance I can do. Don't let anyone make you think turning thirty is a bad thing. Thirty is young, and you are vibrant and full of life. You have all the time in the world to explore and meet new people. I encourage you to do so. Like you said it's a whole new chapter with so many possibilities, and you deserve all the opportunities presented to you. So, I hope you have or had a happy birthday._

 _Anna, as much as I appreciate your offer to come visit me I must decline such an offer. I took the time to think it over and anything more than friendship between us wouldn't be possible. I enjoy our communication very much, and I care for you. I don't want you anywhere near this place and these people. There are some sick bastards in here, and I won't have you a topic of unwanted conversation. It means a great deal to me for you to even ask, but Anna you wouldn't want anything more than what we already have. Someone is out there who can give you all you ever dreamed. Such affections would be wasted on me as I still have years until I'm free of here. I don't feel you are pushy, not at all. You have nothing to apologize for. I only want what is best for you and for you to be happy. So, please have a wonderful time on your birthday, and if you've already celebrated I hope it was wonderful._

 _P.S. - No milk, no sugar, and strong._

 _Your friend,_

 _John_

Seeing there was a second page, she moved the top page to see what was behind it. She gasped as she saw a hand drawn rose on the paper. He wrote along the bottom.

 _Since I couldn't send you flowers_

He also signed the bottom corner of the drawing.

The rose was fully bloomed and detailed. Although there was no color, she pictured it being a deep carmine red, and it was then she knew she wanted to be more to John than a friend. He may not see a clear path to them being together, and there may not have been one yet. But she was determined to prove to him it didn't matter how long she had to wait. John Bates was the man she wanted. How could she not want him when he made her feel the way she did and did things like this? No man she had ever met would have taken the time to draw her such a delicate picture, but he would because he was a good man. He may not want her to come visit, but that did nothing to deter her from her feelings.

* * *

John had had a rough week starting with the day he had drawn Anna's picture. To say Leonard had been nosy was an understatement. John had to draw when the other man was asleep just so he wouldn't have to keep answering questions about what he was doing. Though it wouldn't seem like it, he had made himself vulnerable by asking to purchase a pair of the socks. He could have just sent her the drawing, but it didn't feel like it was enough. He had waited until almost all the men had left the mending room before he asked the guard about it, but he could feel a few lingering glares in his direction. He knew there would be rumors about why he had bought a pair, but it was worth the risk to be able to send Anna something for her birthday.

"Heard you bought a pair of those socks," Leonard said off hand after they returned to their cell after yard time.

John clenched his jaw and sat down on his bed with envelope in hand. It had taken longer than he expected for the news to travel back to him, and wasn't really surprised it was Leonard asking. John had seen him talking to Hyland and Farris in the yard, which gave him the signal to not trust Leonard, not that he had before.

"People hear many things in here," John responded firmly.

Leonard's back rested against the cinder block cell wall.

"I thought you didn't have any family," Leonard concluded.

"Never have said either way," John stated.

"You sound like a member of parliament with your neutral answers."

"Well, I can assure you I'm not. If I was I might not be in here."

Leonard laughed, "Ain't that the blessed truth. They don't toe the line like the rest of us."

John moved to prop himself up in a seated position on the bed as Leonard continued to talk.

"But honestly, I don't know who you sent socks to but I bet they wish you hadn't. Who in their right mind would want a pair of socks made by a fucking inmate?"

John kept his face impassive but inside Leonard's words reverberated. He wasn't a praying man usually, but John prayed for Leonard to be transferred to a different cell. The man grated on his nerves, and he so much wanted his solitude back.

"Who knows," John said, disinterested in the topic.

"Well, you've been a delight to chat with," Leonard said with finality as he climbed up to his bed.

John sighed silently and closed his eyes momentarily in relief Leonard was going to shut up for a while. Now, he could read. The envelope had a birthday balloon stamp on it. He smiled and opened it.

 _Dear John,_

 _To my delighted surprise, your gifts came the day before my birthday. I know you think it wasn't enough, but please believe me when I say it was more than enough. The socks mean so much to me simply because you were the one who made them. After looking them over, I must say you are very good at knitting. You may have to show me a trick or two one day._

He sighed. If only that were a real possibility, he thought.

 _Where do I begin on the rose drawing? I absolutely love it. Real flowers will eventually wither away, but yours will never parish. I can and will always keep my beautiful birthday flower from you. It means so much. Thank you, John X._

He felt a faint blush creep up his neck. The little X's she had been sneakily inserting into her letters made him wonder what the pleasure of such an action might feel like even though it was fruitless to ponder.

 _It seems as though you have multiple talents which is very impressive. So, I ended up going out for my birthday. Gwen insisted I put on a dress that was way too revealing. Good thing I'm vertically challenged otherwise the dress would have been a shirt instead!_

Good God, he thought internally as he screwed his eyes shut. He wasn't for sure if she had written this to tease him, but if that had been her goal then she had succeeded. He had another piece of the puzzle when it came to her. Her words 'vertically challenged' obviously meant she was short. How short he couldn't begin to know. It seemed fitting to him though for her to be shorter in stature. She was more than likely a small force of nature, feisty, determined, and strong. Yes, he could sense Anna was all of those things and much much more. He allowed himself to linger on thoughts of a very provocative dress only a bit more before he opened his eyes.

 _So anyway, we get to this ridiculous club that I blame my friend, Ethel, for picking out. I told them I wanted to go dancing, which I told you last time, and guess what? Take a guess at what ended up happening inside this club? Foam. Dancing. That's right. Foam dancing. It was insane. I felt like a fish out of water as all these people who were probably eighteen or nineteen were bouncing and screaming around in foam._

He felt the urge to laugh openly when he remembered Leonard was still in the room. He cursed him silently before looking back to the page.

 _We were all drenched by the time we left. Needless to say, your sweet gifts were the highlight of my 30th birthday. My friends obviously thought I'd be having a mid-life crisis about turning thirty and needed to do something completely crazy. Daisy and William I think got lost in the foam at one point. Well, yeah, enough about that madness. I think tonight I'll make a pot of tea (Assam, good and strong), grab a blanket, curl up on the sofa, and watch whatever movie may be playing. That's much more my speed than what I mentioned above._

That was more his speed, too. No one ever thinks about being grateful for a quiet night in with a comfortable couch, warm tea (which he was thankful she liked Assam because he did as well), and the telly until they don't have it anymore. It sounded so relaxing.

 _So, I want you to know I understand what you are saying when you say you don't want me to visit. From the little I know about prison from my sister, I know it can be a very unforgiving and hostile place. I could only imagine what a men's prison would be like, but I would come visit you regardless. Anytime you feel like a visitor I will come to visit you. I support your decision on the matter, for now, but I don't agree with you when you say my affections would be a waste on you. I am not blinded by the fact you still have time to serve even though there is still a part of me that wonders how you ended up in there in the first place. Your character isn't matching what you're imprisoned for._

There she was again still doubting he could be guilty.

 _I care for you also. It may seem unconventional to care for someone you've never met, but I don't find it odd. It feels right to care for you. You say you want what is best for me, and you want me to be happy. Well, the best thing for me is you quite frankly, and knowing you care about my happiness makes me happy._

He couldn't help but feel cynical. The best thing for her was him? How was that possible? There was a tiny part of him that felt a sense of hope course quickly through him, but he didn't allow that to shine through.

 _I care about your happiness and want what is best for you as well. I hope you know that because I'm being truthful. I want you to be happy and carefree as soon as humanly possible, and I would help you in any way I could._

He believed her.

 _I hope your week has been as pleasant as can be. I can't wait to hear from you again. x_

Another sneaky kiss. He wouldn't even admit it to himself, but he liked seeing them.

 _P.S. - By my next letter I'll have made your shortbread._

 _Yours,_

 _Anna x_

* * *

The timer to the oven beeped loudly letting her know the creation inside was done. She quickly walked over and ended the timer. She then pulled on her oven mitts and lowered the oven door to take out what she had placed inside. Carefully, she lifted the pan out of the oven and placed it on a cooling rack before she closed the oven door. Removing her oven mitts, she turned the oven off and looked at the finished product. It needed some time to cool yet, so she left it be and decided to see what Jimmy was doing.

She walked to the front of the shop to see Jimmy trying to see his reflection in the display case. He used his fingertips to move his hair just the slightly bit more in one direction. She rolled her eyes and walked closer.

"Jimmy," she said shortly.

She watched as he straighten his back and looked in her direction.

"Yes, Anna?" he asked.

He looked as though he had been caught with his hand in the biscuit jar.

"Have you rotated everything as I've asked and made sure we have plenty of boxes and bags stocked?" she asked as she looked around.

"I rotated everything," he said quickly.

"And the boxes?"

"I was just about to start folding them. Right now," he said with wide eyes before he strode off to collect the large stack of flat ones.

When he was out of her line of sight she smirked and shook her head. He was a good bloke, though a bit self-absorbed, and he did as good a job as any young man probably would. His strongest trait was sales. He could sale quite a bit to ladies, young and old alike, using his charm and good looks. Anna felt with time and maturity Jimmy would end up doing well for himself where ever he ended up.

"In coming."

Anna stepped out of the way as Daisy brought in a long tray of dark chocolate truffles. She followed behind her and lifted the back panel of the case, so Daisy could slide them into place. Daisy rearranged a few before she removed her hand, and Anna lowered the panel.

The shop bell tinkled and a woman stepped inside. She appeared to be middle-aged with soft brown hair and a curious smile as she approached the cases.

"Good afternoon," Anna greeted as Daisy went to finish another project.

"Good afternoon," the woman replied with kind eyes.

"Looking for anything in particular?"

The woman eyes moved across the case as she said, "Oh, I don't know. I'm trying to find something for my husband, but I'm not sure if he'd like anything. He's quite picky if you know what I mean."

Anna chuckled, "I always wonder how anyone can be picky when it comes to sweets, chocolate in particular."

"Men," she woman smirked.

Anna nodded and smiled back as the woman continued to look. She gave her some space to look at the options until the woman had a question.

"Miss?"

Anna turned and walked back over to her.

"You can call me Anna," she smiled.

"Anna, would you happen to have anything more like... well, like something that would go along with tea. Like a biscuit?"

Anna tried to think if they did and replied, "No, I'm sorry. I don't."

The disappointed look on her customer's face made her feel bad. She didn't like it when they weren't happy with what her had to offer.

"It's okay. I understand."

It was then she remembered what she had pulled out of the oven only a short while ago.

She looked back at the woman and said, "Actually, I take that back. Would you mind waiting here a minute while I go to the back?"

"Not at all."

Anna gave a quick nod and turned as Jimmy was bringing in a few completed boxes. She passed him and went to the back. Reaching her destination, she efficiently removed the baked good from the pan and cut it into twelve even pieces. She placed them onto a serving dish and quickly carried them back to the front.

"I forgot I just made these," Anna smiled as she looked at the woman.

She laid the dish onto the counter and the woman looked down at it.

Anna spoke again. "It's chocolate shortbread."

"Mmm," the woman hummed as her eyebrows raised.

Anna picked up a small pair of tongs. She took hold of a piece of the shortbread and placed in on a napkin. She then reached it out to the woman.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly," the woman declined politely.

"I insist. It's my first time making this recipe. You can tell me if it's something you'd end up buying again. Go on," Anna encouraged.

"Thank you," she replied as she took the napkin from her.

Anna watched in eager anticipation as the woman took a bite of the shortbread. She found herself smiling as the woman made a sound of delight as she chewed.

"This is delicious," she complimented before taking another bite.

"So you think it's something I should sell regularly?"

She nodded, "I know this is something my whole family would enjoy. I'll take half a dozen for now, but I'll be back if you plan on making more."

"The ladies at church would love to have this recipe," she gushed.

Anna smiled brightly. She gave a little look as she said, "Well, unfortunately it's a family recipe."

She felt an unfamiliar trill run through her. She had naturally called it a family recipe. She supposed it was. It was John's family recipe, but when she had said it she meant it as John was part of her family.

"I'm sure it is. Thank you for allowing me to try it. It's what I believe I was looking for."

"You're very welcome. Let me box those up for you."

She couldn't wait to tell John.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** _Same 1-13._

* * *

That same evening after she had tried out the shortbread for the first time she hurried home to check her postbox. She was expecting to hear from him soon and was already very eager to write him back. She walked into her building and over to the postboxes in the wall. She took out her keys and placed the key into the lock. Opening the box, she pulled out two catalogs and to her glee a grey envelope. With post in hand, she locked the postbox and made her way to her flat.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her. Looking around, it appeared Gwen wasn't home. She placed the two catalogs onto the low table in the sitting room before she ventured to her bedroom. She deposited her purse and keys onto the chair in the corner. Walking to her desk, she sat down and proceeded to open the packet. Most of the time she would unwind from her day first before reading, but she wanted to read now to have the extra time to write back that night.

Unfolding the pages, she began.

 _Dear Anna,_

 _I hope your days have been wonderful since we've last written. I am very glad to know you liked your gifts. I must say I was apprehensive about sending them at first, but you have put my mind at ease as you usually do. You are very welcome. I'm just thankful I was able to do this for you. I assure you you are the talented one, business woman, chocolate mastermind, and pen pal extraordinaire. I am sure there are many talents you have that I am just not aware of yet._

You got that right, she thought with a smirk.

 _Your birthday adventure ended up being... shocking... That would have been the last thing I would have guessed you ended up doing. It's probably not hard to guess that I have never been foam dancing. It is definitely something someone my age shouldn't be participating. I'm glad you didn't get lost in the foam._

Was that his way of saying he would miss her?

 _When you described your evening it made me long for it. I would relish the chance to sit on a cozy sofa with a warm blanket drinking tea. How more perfect could you be when you mentioned Assam tea? I also enjoy the blend, and I'm looking forward to the day when I can enjoy it again._

She blushed at being called perfect. She was far from it, but it was nice to know he saw her that way.

 _Thank you for understanding the reason for me declining your visit. It has absolutely nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and these people in here. Speaking of which, I have acquired a new cellmate. I am not pleased in the slightest about it. I had been enjoying the privacy of reading and writing to you without anyone else in close proximity, but now that privacy is gone until he moves cells or I do. I know you are probably going to say I should make friends with him, but there is no such thing as a friend in here. You are the only friend I need anyway._

She smiled widely. He was right. She probably would have told him to make the best of it and try to be friendly. She hoped his cellmate was kind if nothing else.

 _I've been sitting here thinking for some time over your words. I know you wonder how I ended up in here, and at this point I know you have every right to ask._

She sat up straighter as she realized he was about to share a part of him she had been curious about. She tucked a strand of hair behind her hair anxiously as she began to read again.

 _My past is filled with mistakes and regrets. As you know I married young, and shortly after that I went into the military. Ten years ago I was discharged from the Army because I had acquired an injury to my knee which you also know about. In the years after that everything was a struggle, my marriage, my drinking problem, and finding employment. For two years I was unemployed as I learned how to walk as well as I could again. So, therefore, Vera had to find work. She didn't want that, you see. She wanted a life of comfort and leisure, and me being at home injured didn't give her what she wanted. I was useless as far as she was concerned._

How dare her, she thought. Her husband acquired an injury fighting for Queen and Country, and she had the nerve to see him as useless? His former wife sounded like a real piece of work. She went to the second page.

 _When I was finally able to gain employment it was at the local book shop in the area of London we lived. To my surprise I had been able to keep that job for a year before she decided it wasn't enough money. She forced me to hand in my notice and find other work. It took a while until I got a different job, but I managed to get a position as a bank cashier. I have no idea how I got that job, but it was a good decent paying one. I had that job two years before she became unsatisfied and started causing trouble for me there. Needless to say I ended up being sacked._

What a witch, she said internally.

 _I drifted the next few years from job to job. It still brings me shame that I never could hold a job. When I didn't have anywhere else to turn I asked an old army pal of mine if he had any positions open. He owns a chain of high end retail stores, and he offered for me to come work as his personal assistant in Yorkshire. I was glad of it at the time, and of course we moved to Yorkshire. During my employment I was still drinking. It wasn't as heavy, but I was still doing it. At the time we needed more money even with the new job, so as much as I hate to say it, it was found out I stole several days worth of deposits from my army pal's office. The amount was enough for me to acquire a felony and for me to end up here. So, there you have it. I'm a common thief with little to nothing to offer society._

 _P.S. - You'll have to let me know if you like the shortbread._

 _Your friend,_

 _John_

She just stared at the page that had ended so abruptly, and the information there at the end was vague. Most of the details were left out. Something didn't seem right about it. She didn't think John would go work for a friend and then just decide to steal who knows how much from him just because he needed more money. If he hadn't done this at his other jobs why would he do it at this one? Deciding she would need to think it over, she laid the pages down on the desk and went to go have a shower.

* * *

He couldn't believe it was almost summer. Another season had come and gone without him being able to experience it other than the patch of grass they visited daily. The yard was an even more welcome destination now that he had to share his space with Leonard. He still hated having him in his cell but Leonard slept a lot which he was thankful. He was walking along the wall as he thought about Anna. He had been open with her in a way he hadn't been with someone in a very long time. Had he still been vague? Yes, but still he had shared the essential outline of how he ended up in prison, which is more than he had ever told anyone. He hoped it would bring her some clarity and make her realize he was where he was for a reason. The reason had more layers than he revealed, but nonetheless, he deserved to be here not only for the crime but for how he lived his life.

He took a deep breath as he turned the corner. He wondered what she was doing. Sometimes he wondered if she was working away, or if she had the day off. Maybe she was running errands or had appointments, just simple everyday things. He hoped to hear from her that day.

"You fucking bastard!" John heard someone yell in the yard. His eyes quickly scanned the area, and his eyes settled on Felix Baker as he smashed his fist into Glen Hyland's face. Hyland immediately retaliated with a strong punch to Baker's abdomen making him bend at the waist.

"What's the matter, Baker? She's a grown woman now," Glen mocked.

Felix launched forward and grabbed Glen by the shirt as his other fist hooked into his jaw.

John began to hobble as quickly as he could in their direction.

Baker then kicked Hyland in the knee and sent him onto his back on the ground. Baker fell on top of him and slammed his fist into his face again.

"Don't you ever talk about my daughter ever again. Never!" Felix raged.

John came right up behind Baker and grabbed him by his shoulders pulling him off Hyland.

"He isn't worth it," John voiced as he looked to the man who's skin was flushed and his eyes glassed over.

John saw guards approaching to his left.

"Move back Bates," one of them said sternly.

"John did as he was told as the guards saw to Hyland and Baker.

"What the hell is going on boys?" asked one of the guards.

They didn't give them a chance to explain themselves before they had Hyland to his feet and both of them handcuffed behind the back and taken back inside. John had a deep grimace on his face as he saw Felix being taken inside. Hyland must had been spouting off about Felix's daughter, Penelope. Felix was very protective of her which was the reason he was in here to begin with. John was sure if given more time Felix would have done more damage to the man. When his natural instinct kicked in to go help it wasn't out of trying to help Hyland, but instead to keep Felix from getting deeper in trouble. Some of the other inmates were murmuring about the sudden fight, and he could see Farris laughing to a couple others. He was more than likely laughing at Felix. John scowled.

He was glad when the signal rang for them to line up to go back inside. The rest of the yard time was tense as everyone watched each other, some looking for a fight and some praying one didn't happen. He stood in the queue and waited his turn. When he made it to the front the guard held out a packet for him. He took it without a word and made his way back to the cell. When he entered he was the first one to arrive. He sat down on his bed and slipped the envelope under his threadbare pillow for safe keeping until Leonard fell asleep. He budged up until his back was leaned up against the cinder block wall and that was when Leonard entered the cell.

"You got back quick today," Leonard commented as the door of their cell slid closed and locked.

"Seems I did," he responded evenly.

"Got a bit of excitement out on the yard today though," Leonard laughed.

John looked to him with a frown and replied, "I don't see how making vulgar comments about another man's daughter is amusing."

Leonard stopped his laughing and said, "No, someone like you wouldn't. You have no sense of humor. It was just for fun and Baker overreacted."

John decided to not comment any further. He could talk until he turned blue in the face, but Leonard and most of the other men in here wouldn't agree with him. When Leonard figured out he wasn't going to talk anymore, he walked over to the bunks and climbed up to his. John closed his eyes out of relief of not having to talk further and to send good vibes to Felix. He knew he wouldn't see him for a while and hoped his time in solitary confinement went quickly.

It would make it much easier on everyone in here if everyone didn't always run their mouth or try to physically hurt someone, but that was just the nature of the environment. Too many men, with too many pent up frustrations of all kinds, was always a loaded gun just waiting for the trigger to be pulled. That was the main reason he kept the lid on his friendship with Anna on as tight as he could.

He waited until he heard Leonard snoring before he retrieved his letter from under the pillow. The packet felt thick as he held in it in his hands, and he looked to the top right to see she had picked out a postage stamp with a rolling pin on it. He smiled to himself. She must have made the shortbread like she had said she would. He carefully slipped his pointer finger under the corner of the glued down tab and slid his finger across until the flap was open. He reached inside, pulled out the pages, and unfolded them.

 _Dear John,_

 _My days have been pleasant. I'm enjoying the warmer weather though most people complain about the heat don't they? They mention several times a day how warm it is or vice versa how cold is it. I guess that's the nature of the British though isn't it? I for one enjoy the warmth much better than the cold. Anyway, I am very glad you sent those gifts as I said in my last letter. Your beautiful rose is now in a picture frame actually near my bed._

His eyes closed as he took in a deep breath and released it. This woman. What was she doing to him? She had his drawing in a frame next to her bed. It made him feel good to know, even if it was just a drawing, that some part of him was next to her each night. In some way he hoped it brought her comfort and a reminder that he was there for her just as she was for him. He opened his eyes to continue.

 _I would have never guessed you haven't been foam dancing ;)_

He chuckled at the wink.

 _You'll need to try it for nothing other than getting to feel claustrophobic while covered in dish soap. It's an experience, and I'm also glad I didn't get lost in the foam. It would have kept me from writing you which just would not do._

He felt his smile widen.

 _As far as your comments about my night in I will say I did enjoy my quiet night. I can't believe you like Assam tea as well. Just another thing we have in common. I hope you don't find me silly, but I found myself wishing for your company as I sat alone. Well, I wish for your company every day really, but it would have been nice to share my pot of tea with you. I believe one day that will happen._

His hands became clammy, and he had to wipe his hands on his trousers. If she only knew just how many times he had thought this very same thing. He wasn't as brave or as strong as she was though. He was allowing honor, self loathing, and a touch of cowardice to keep him from revealing what had been building up in his heart. It was the most peculiar feeling to want to spend time with someone who you've never seen or heard their voice, but it seemed as though they were both wanting exactly that. He realized though that fantasies and dreams were completely different from reality. He was in prison, and he wasn't getting out for a long time.

 _I know you probably don't, but I will believe for the both of us. I guess I should send my condolences to your privacy now that you have a cellmate. You're right. I would have told you to be friendly and possibly make a friend, but you know better than I if that is a good idea. I hope this new development doesn't keep you from writing or reading my letters. I really don't care if he reads what I have to say. I'll continue to write to you openly as I always have regardless._

As he turned to the second page, he grimaced at the thought of Leonard or anyone else reading his letters from her. She may not care if the whole world read them, but he did. It mattered to him.

 _Thank you for sharing with me about some of your past. I wish those years had been better for you. It sounds as though your wife made it very hard on you even when you had employment, which doesn't make any sense to me. I believe you shouldn't feel any shame at your attempts at keeping employed. From what you wrote, it appeared you would have been able to keep a number of those jobs and possibly advance if it hadn't been for her. As for your position at your friend's company, I feel as though there is a good chunk missing out of that part. I know in my heart you couldn't possibly do that to a close friend who had given you an opportunity because you hadn't done it before at the other places of employment, and I believe you wouldn't take the money simply because you needed it. I feel something else occurred because from getting to know you it isn't in your character. You're not a thief to me because I know something must have made you do it or something else came into play. It sounds as though you are innocent._

To say he was stunned was an understatement. She believed him to be innocent even after he had vaguely told her why he was there, and he was currently in prison for Christ's sake. He should know Anna to be bold and forthcoming by now, but her believing him to be innocent despite everything made tears form in his eyes. He felt as though he couldn't go further into detail about everything that had happened. He didn't want to put more burden onto her, and he didn't want to give her false hope that he may get out of prison before he was supposed to. He wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand. How could she believe in him so fiercely? It seemed she had more faith in him than he had ever had in himself. He would have to think of a proper reply after he finished reading. He wiped a final tear away before he looked back to the page.

 _On a lighter note, I am pleased to inform you I tried out your chocolate shortbread recipe. I made the first batch while at work, and while it was cooling I was helping a lady who was trying to find something for her husband. At first it looked like I wasn't going to have anything to offer her, but then she asked if I had anything like biscuits. Crazy me said no at first until I remembered I had just baked the shortbread. I went to the back to cut it up into the twelve bars and brought it out for her to try. She loved it and ended up buying a half dozen! She even said she would tell others about how good it was and where to find it. Since it went over well, I plan on making several more batches and keeping it as one of my regular items for sale. I also tasted it myself, and it is incredible. Thank you so much for sharing your recipe with me. I know it's going to be a big hit in my shop Xx._

There she went again. One moment he could be brought to emotion and in the next brought to a smile in her letters. He was so glad she enjoyed it, and that it would hopefully add to her business. He hadn't felt helpful in a notably long time, but right then at that moment he felt helpful. It was a feeling he couldn't possibly repay her for. With crinkles deepening at the corners of his eyes, he turned to the third page.

 _I hope the rest of your week is a good one, and always know you are never out of my thoughts. I think of you every day. Remember you are a good person, and I believe in you. I hope the book is still enjoyable even though you have company during your reading time now. Well, I must get on. I have a few things needing to get done before I go to sleep next to your rose. x_

 _P.S. - If you couldn't tell, I loved the shortbread tremendously. Also, I'm still ordering your favorite sandwich at least once a week in case my toastie thoughts haven't been coming through clearly._

 _Truly Yours,_

 _Anna x_


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** _Same 1-14._

* * *

"Baker's back," Owen said into his cup as he sat across from John at breakfast.

John didn't look around or even look as though he acknowledged what Owen said. Instead, he muttered into his tray, "He got off easy."

"What's the usual stay?" Owen asked quietly as he brought his spoon to his lips.

"A month. Two if they really want you to pay," John whispered as others sat at the same table a few seats down from them.

He hadn't been in solitary confinement, but from what he had heard it wasn't pleasant.

John kept his head down until he saw a tray lower to the table in front of him. He looked up to see Felix lowering himself down to the chair.

"Bates," Felix stated.

"Baker," John replied.

"Malone," Felix said.

"Baker," Owen said back.

They all went back to eating until Owen decided to speak.

"You're out early."

"The governor decided I had spent enough time since it was Penelope being talked about."

Damned right it was enough time, John thought to himself. To him, Felix shouldn't have had to spend a single moment in solitary, but since he had struck Hyland first he had to pay the price.

"Hyland still in?" Owen asked.

Felix nodded his head once, and that was the end of their conversation.

* * *

"Gwen, can you come stir this?" Anna called from their kitchen.

Gwen popped her head into the room and said, "Me? Do you want it to burn?"

"I only need you to stir it. It won't burn unless you crank up the temperature."

Gwen stepped further into the room and relented, "Oh, all right, but where are you going?"

Anna slipped her apron off and laid it on the work top. "If you really must know, I have to pee."

Gwen took the wooden spoon in hand and began stirring the pot. "You're right I didn't need to know."

They both chuckled as Anna left the room.

When she returned, she went over to where Gwen was stirring and looked over her shoulder.

"You did great."

"Yes, I'm now Gwen Dawson, master chef. Maybe I should try out for the TV show."

Anna rolled her eyes and took the wooden spoon from Gwen. "I wouldn't go that far."

Gwen laughed and leaned her lower back against the work top. "Thanks for cooking tonight. All the takeaway food was starting to bloat me."

"No problem. You know I don't mind," Anna replied as she turned the hob off. She then reached into the cabinet to collect two plates and laid them out on the work top to fill them.

"So, how has work been this week?" Anna asked as she dished up the food.

"Good. I've sent out several letters and emails in regards to a sale Grantham's is having soon to kick off summer plus made several appointments and meetings for Mr. Crawley."

They both took their plates into the sitting room before they retrieved a glass of water each. Now sitting on the sofa with plates in hand, Anna replied, "Grantham's is having a sale? I thought they never had sales."

"Well, they technically don't, but Mr. Crawley suggested we try out the word to see what kind of business it would bring. I don't think he plans on lowering the prices."

Anna swallowed before saying, "They would have to lower the prices by fifty to sixty percent before I could afford to buy anything from there."

"I know, but they cater to the wealthy so there's that."

"Definitely."

They each took a few bites of their meal before Gwen broke the silence.

"How's John?"

Gwen watched as an easy smile came to her face at the mention of his name.

"As well as can be I suppose. I plan on reading his letter after we clean up from dinner."

"Oh yeah, you told him you tried out his recipe. I bet that made his day."

"I hope so."

"I'm glad it's doing so well. The shortbread I mean."

Anna took a sip from her glass before she replied, "I can't believe how much of it we are selling. It's helping to sell our other stuff, too."

"Well, if nothing else, then John Bates has added to your profit margin," Gwen laughed.

"Gwen," Anna chuckled and chided at the same time.

"Sorry," she giggled.

"You know while we're on the subject of John," she prompted as she sat her plate on her lap.

"Yeah?" Gwen said before taking another bite.

"You may think I sound crazy, but I believe he may be wrongly imprisoned."

Gwen coughed as she swallowed hard. She reached for her glass and took a long sip before sitting it back down.

"What?"

"I don't know. Just certain things he has said and hasn't said leads me to believe he may be innocent."

"Anna, I'm sure if he's in prison for theft then they must have had evident to send him there," Gwen said reasonably.

"I know, and that makes sense. But there is something not adding up to me. It doesn't feel like something he would do."

Gwen placed her half eaten plate on the low table and looked at Anna fully.

"Anna, you are my best friend."

"I'm sensing a but coming," Anna said sadly.

"But... you have never met this man. How do you know he's not making himself sound like something he's not? What if he really did do the crime and deserves to do the time?"

Anna looked down to her lap before she steeled herself and looked back to Gwen.

Defending John, she said, "And how is he to know I'm telling him the truth about who I am or what I've done or not done?"

"Because you wouldn't lie to someone like that."

"Well, I believe he wouldn't either. No, I know he wouldn't."

"Anna."

"Look, just because I've never met a person doesn't mean I can't get to know them. Why does it take a face to face interaction to know someone? There are people right now who I have interacted with face to face who have lied right to my face. Kyle is a fine example."

"Kyle is a right wanker."

"Yes, he is, and I've met him in person. All I'm saying is just because I haven't met John doesn't mean he's being fake with me. In all honesty, I feel that he is being truer with me than he has anyone in a long time."

"All right. You would know better than I would. If you believe John is being truthful, and you think the man is innocent then I have no reason not to believe you."

Anna sighed in relief. "Thanks, Gwen."

"You're welcome. So, what do you plan on doing about it if he is indeed innocent?"

"I'm not exactly sure yet, but I'm hoping John can give me enough information to see what needs to happen."

After dinner was done and the kitchen was tidied, Anna entered her bedroom and closed the door. She quickly changed into her pyjamas and switched on her bedside lamp. Walking over to her desk, she collected the grey envelope and walked back to her bed. She propped up a couple of pillows and sat back against them as she opened the rough flap and took out the pages.

 _Dear Anna,_

 _I am also enjoying the warmer weather. You have hit the nail on the head with how people complain about the weather, and yes it is like an unspoken tradition for people to mention the weather more than they should. I also prefer the warmth over the cold. The cold makes my knee play up a little more than I like, so the warmer weather is preferable. I am honored to know my drawing is at your bedside. I hope it is a reminder to you that I'm always here for you as you have been for me. If it's all right with you I think I'll skip out on the foam dancing. I know, I know party pooper. I'm glad you enjoyed your quiet night, and no you didn't sound silly at all. If I am to be truthful with you, I also think about spending time with you. I think it is only natural to do so as we get to know one another. There are plenty of people in the world for you to share your quiet time with if you so wished, but I'm not one of them as wonderful as it may sound. Thank you for your condolences to my privacy. Though there is never true privacy in here, it's definitely more crowded with a short, stout, bald man sharing your small space. I believe I can be amicable, but I don't think friendship is in the cards for me and him. So, anyway, my past is messy, and I'm obviously still paying for it. The time I was employed at my former friend's company is too hard to explain, but there was enough proof to find me guilty. I'm sorry if this disappoints you. Enough of that, I am thrilled to hear the shortbread is going well. I'm also glad you tried it yourself and enjoyed it. I ate that shortbread many times over the years. It's nice to be able to help you in some small way from in here. I hope your week is good as well. I know you think I'm a good person, but I want to believe that you are making me want to be a better person. It sounds more fitting. The book is my treasure even with someone in my space. I love it more and more x. Until next time.  
_

He added a kiss! A smile split her face in two and giggles sprang forth. She calmed herself after a few seconds. She was acting like a teenage girl.

 _P.S. - Send me thoughts of the shortbread along with the turkey and cheese and I'll be one happy camper. :)_

 _Always,_

 _John_

His letter had been short. It made her wonder if it had anything to do with the possibility of his cellmate looming over his shoulder. It had been easy to figure out John was a private man, so it couldn't be easy to write to her with someone being nosy. From his description of his cellmate she had a feeling these descriptions did not match his own which intrigued her. He skimmed over quite a bit this time. He had admitted he would like to spend time with her, but then suggested there were others who she could spend time with. Couldn't he see she didn't want another's company? He also skipped over talking about what happened at his last job. Maybe it was too sensitive a topic, but if she knew more about what had happened maybe she could help him somehow. If she kept lightly pressing him maybe he would give her what she needed, and he deserved a small reward for adding the kiss.

* * *

"How you feeling?" John asked Owen as he came to a stop to allow his knee to rest.

"Each day is a little better."

John nodded his head in understanding. It would take time for Owen to be confident in his sobriety in both body and mind. Sometimes it was still hard for him to be confident mentally, though he didn't like to admit it.

"You'll get there," John offered.

Owen kicked at the grass as he replied, "Maybe. I know if I had the stuff right now I'd use."

"Good thing you're in here for a while then. You'll be good and clean by the time you get out."

"Yeah, if I don't go right back to it and end up back in here."

"You won't if you truly want to change your life, but that is a decision only you can make."

"Do you plan on changing yours?"

Owen's question caught him somewhat off guard. He knew he was asking him if he'd go back to drinking, but his mind thought of her. Anna was already changing his life.

"I don't want to go back to who I was. I want to be better than that."

When the alarm sounded for them to go inside he was near the door, so he decided to be near the front of the line this time. It took no time at all until he stepped up to the guard who shuffled a few envelopes until he thrust one towards him. With a stoic face he accepted the packet and walked towards his cell. He was the first to arrive when he stepped inside. He walked over to his bed and sank down on to it. As he lifted the envelope to look at the stamp, which he always did, he noticed a scent coming from the packet. His eyes looked to the lavender stamp before Leonard stepped in the cell. The cell door began to close as Leonard walked towards the bunks. John moved the envelope to under his pillow and laid down.

"I don't see the point in going to the yard on cloudy days," Leonard muttered as he hoisted himself to his bunk.

"Better than no fresh air at all," John stated.

"I guess."

John didn't respond and laid quietly until he heard Leonard's snores. He always took a nap after yard time which worked out for him. When the snores became consistent, John pulled the envelope from under his pillow. He quickly opened the paper flap and took the pages in his hand. He placed the now empty packet down to the side of him on the bed and unfolded the pages. He was engulfed in a wonderful fragrance. It must be lavender due to her hint from the stamp, but there was a sweetness to it as well like honey. She must have sprayed her perfume onto the pages. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. It smelled heavenly. He stayed that way for a little while longer just basking in the scent of the honeyed lavender until he needed to read her words. He opened his eyes and looked to the first page.

 _My Dearest John,_

He wasn't fully aware but a smile spread across his lips.

 _Hey, you. As always I hope you are well. The warmer weather as been nice but with it comes the rain. It's been filthy the past few days which unfortunately keeps me indoors. Do they keep you inside as well when it rains? It's not that I don't enjoy an occasional rainy day but several in a row isn't fun. Of course I keep my flower by my bed. It's too beautiful to hide away, and it is a definite reminder of you x._

That unfamiliar sensation of a flush creeping up his neck made itself known again.

 _No foam dancing, eh? I had a feeling you were wise :). I also don't think it makes you a party pooper. So, I am curious to know... since you mentioned you have thought about spending time with me. Where do you picture us spending time together? I've told you a few of mine, so I don't think it's quite unfair to ask. You can be honest with me, Mister Bates._

He had thought of several including one particular place he had no right at all to picture. Yes, he was a man, but he needed to have more control over himself.

 _I trust your judgement when it comes to your cellmate. I would never ask you to be friends with someone you felt wasn't worthy to be called as such. Just know that I don't really care if he sees what I write to you or vice versa. I have nothing to hide. As far as the topic about pasts goes, we've been down this road before. Everyone has a past of some kind. My intent on asking you about your last job is not to dig up things you wished to keep buried but rather to help you if I can. If there are things that aren't what they appear, or things I can do out here to help you I am here. In truth, I do not wish to see you still in your current position for three years and some months._

The thought of him being here for another three plus years had been weighing on him more as of late. It seemed such a long time.

 _So, if you are ever ready to explain what may have happened, I have all the time in the world to hear you out. Well, carrying on, the shortbread. It is still doing well, and I very much enjoy it myself. I can picture you, well as good as I can I suppose, as a young boy watching your mum making the shortbread. Once it was ready you'd sneak more pieces than you were allowed to have and run off to the garden to play. That makes a smile just imagining it._

He allowed himself a quiet chuckle.

 _You have been extremely helpful to me, and I have no doubt you will continue to be. I know this may be an odd question, but would you tell me your mother's name? I would very much like to name the shortbread after her and label it so in my display case. I just have it labeled chocolate shortbread for now, but I want to give credit where credit is due. Only if you don't mind of course._

Sometimes he wondered if the person he was writing to was real. How did he end up so lucky as to have a pen pal who was as kind as her? He could have ended up with anyone, but he had been blessed with this beautiful soul. Who would ever take the time to think of something like this? The gesture itself may be small, but the meaning was vast. It moved him for her to ask.

 _I'm glad the book is still enjoyable. I haven't had much time for reading here lately. Quite honestly its been work, chores, errands, the telly, and of course reading your letters and writing to you. I need to get back to reading though I've just been lazy after I get home. I have dinner while watching shows I've recorded most nights. Well, I'd better get some sleep. It's back to the shop early in the morning. Write soon x._

 _P.S. - I certainly want John Bates to be a happy camper, so I will send thoughts of chocolate biscuits and turkey and cheese sandwiches your way. ;)_

 _P.P.S. - You make me want to be a better person, too._

 _Yours,_

 _Anna x_

* * *

 **A/N:** _Thank you for still reading and supporting this story. I love hearing from you!_


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** _Same 1-15._

* * *

Anna hummed a tune as she placed her apron on it's hook. It was time to close up shop. Her and Jimmy had already wiped down everything and cleaned the floors, and now all they had to do was collect their things and head home for the night.

"Ready to go?" Anna asked as she placed her handbag strap on her shoulder and took her keys in her hand.

"Yep. I got me a date tonight," he smirked with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why am I not surprised? Same girl as last week?" she asked as they stepped outside.

"No. Her name's Ivy. I think we might have something deep."

Anna locked the shop door and turned to look at Jimmy.

"How long have you known her?"

"Two days, but she's totally cool."

Anna chuckled, "Well, have a nice time."

"Thanks. See you day after next."

Anna waved him off and set off towards home.

Once in the lobby she lifted her keys and placed the postbox key into the lock. The key turned unlocking the box, and she pulled out a few pieces of post before locking the door back. Taking the stairs, she looked through the post to see a gray pouch in the middle of the small bundle. She plucked it from the center and moved it to the front of the stack. At her door, she let herself in and closed the door with her foot.

"Hey," Gwen called from the kitchen.

"Hey," Anna greeted as she deposited all the post on the table by the door minus John's letter.

"Salad sounded good tonight. You want me to make you one?"

"That'd be great thanks. I'll be in in a minute."

Anna walked into her room, placed the letter onto her desk, and changed for the evening.

An hour or so later her and Gwen had finished their dinner, and now she was back inside her room and sitting down at her desk. Not able to keep herself in suspense any longer, she opened the envelope and unfolded the pages.

 _Dear Anna,_

 _I am very well, and I hope you continue to be so. It has been raining here as well, but looks like we may be getting a break from it. When it rains they do keep us inside. There is a weight room here, so on those days they take us in there in shifts. The weight room is okay. I'd much rather be outside taking my walk. Fresh air is something taken for granted until you don't have regular access to it. I like to breathe in as much of it as I can._

Not for the first time, she frowned at the thought of him being locked up all day.

 _I'm glad you think me wise to stay away from foam dancing. The last thing people in those places would want is an old bloke soaked and attempting to dance. I'm saving everyone an eye soar by abstaining._

"I highly doubt that," she said to herself.

 _What a loaded question to be asked, Miss Smith ;)._

She giggled at his use of a winky face.

 _Good thing I don't mind indulging since I happen to like the subject matter._

So, he liked the idea of them being places together. It bolstered her confidence.

 _I know I can be honest with you, and I agree it isn't unfair for you to ask. I've had several of the same thoughts as you such as just a quite evening, The Printed Page, and the park. All of those sound so simple and perfect. I've also pictured me visiting your shop and watching you in your element. You're always so graceful yet confident in my day dreams when you're working. I've thought about sitting in a tea shop sharing a pot of tea, maybe two, with you watching the world go by and talking about whatever we wished. I've also pictured us attending a football match at Old Trafford. Football is one of the things I miss most while being here. It's nice to envision us cheering the lads on. I hope these examples answered your question._

They did. They answered a few questions.

 _In regards to my cellmate, I do care if he reads our correspondence. It is none of his business or concern what we have to say to each other._

She blinked at the bluntness of his response. He seemed firm on the privacy thing, so she wouldn't keep bringing it up.

 _I know I was vague in telling you about my last employment. Anna, I do not wish to add tasks to your already busy life. I have no doubt you would help me if asked just as I would help you in return. I would help you with anything if able. It's just better to let it be._

She sighed at this. It wouldn't be an added task, which she knew was a code word for burden, to her. There were things he wasn't saying. Things that could possibly help her help him. She was afraid if she pushed too hard too quickly he would never reveal what he was keeping secret. So, she would let up on the subject for a little while even though she didn't want to.

 _So, I'm glad to hear the shortbread is still selling well. How did you guess I was a sneaky lad who always took more biscuits than was allowed, hm? I didn't always get caught, but when I did my mother made me feel about 10 centimeters tall. She always told me it was selfish to eat more of them than I should because she would give some to the neighbor kids as well when they would come to play. I am truly touched by your request. My mother's name is Margaret. She would have loved you, you know. Thank you for wanting to name the shortbread after her. It would have meant a great deal to her, and it does to me as well. It is very thoughtful of you x._

A kiss. If she closed her eyes and focused, it was almost as though she could feel what it would be like to have John Bates kiss her. She knew it might sound crazy to be able to feel someone you've never seen, but with each passing day she felt their connection growing stronger and deeper. She was pleased he approved of her using his mother's name.

 _Sounds as though you might be in a bit of a rut. Maybe you should take a day or two and go on a small trip or adventure. Taking time out for yourself is never time wasted. So, this last letter was a surprise. This time along with the personalized stamp, I also get beautifully scented paper. I'm guessing it is lavender since the stamp is of lavender. Is this what you normally wear?_

It was, and she blushed at him calling it beautiful.

 _It is nice to smell something so fragrant. Again, your thoughtfulness astonishes me. Thank you for sharing this with me. Your turn to write soon._

 _P.S. - Your foodie thoughts keep me going x._

Another kiss!

 _P.P.S. - You're already a way better person than I could ever hope to be._

 _Your happy camper,_

 _John_

* * *

John turned in his food tray when the signal for yard time rang out. He was glad the rain had been holding off, and he was able to go back outside again. Although there were numerous other inmates in the yard the same time he was, it still felt more private at times than his cell. Well, ever since Leonard arrived that is. Outside he could keep to himself if he wished and allow his mind to wander, periodically, as he stretched his legs. It was his second and sometimes third favorite part of the day. The first being reading and writing letters, when he could, and the second reading his book when there weren't new letters yet.

He walked outside and immediately felt the warmth of the sun on his face. He sighed in contentment from the sun rays caress as he carried himself to the perimeter of the wall. He wanted to enjoy the next hour and think about how he would receive a reply from her in a few days.

He was about ten minutes into his walk when he stopped to give his knee a break. He saw a few of the others walk towards the middle of the yard. He stared for a few seconds more before he started moving again. His pace was slow as he kept his peripheral vision on what was going on near by. He heard someone speaking but couldn't make out what was being said. A few laughs and whistles rang out from the group which had been growing as John came closer to the group. He saw Hyland reading from a piece of paper. When he was in ear shot, he could make out what was being said.

 _"_ Where do I begin on the rose drawing? I absolutely love it. Real flowers will eventually wither away, but yours will never parish. I can and will always keep my beautiful birthday flower from you. It means so much. Thank you, John. BIG KISS!" Hyland said loudly as the other men were enjoying what was being said.

John froze for only seconds as he realized Hyland was reading one of his letters from Anna. His eyes snapped to Leonard's who was looking at him. The bastard had some how gotten one of his letters and handed it over to Hyland. He didn't stare at him for long because Hyland continued to read.

"It seems as though you have multiple talents which is very impressive. So, I ended up going out for my birthday. Gwen insisted I put on a dress that was way too revealing. Good thing I'm vertically challenged otherwise the dress would have been a shirt instead!" he said as the group whooped and hollered.

One man yelled out, "Hell, yeah. That's sexy."

John saw red. His blood had reached boiling point. Not only was the only bit of privacy he had shattered, but now everyone knew about Anna. And the worst part was they were saying and thinking all kinds of nasty things about her. She didn't deserve that. A primal urge to protect her crawled up from deep in his gut.

It the next moment he snapped and surged forward as fast as his leg would allow him. He pushed one bloke to the ground before he pulled back his fist and sent a right hook into Hyland's jaw. Hyland stumbled backwards but kept on his feet. John kept right with him and punched him hard in the abdomen. Hyland grunted but still managed to smirk and say, "If you'd had told us about the whore we wouldn't have had to read it."

John heard the whistles of the guards. He knew they would be there any second, but he had to make sure Hyland knew to never speak of her ever again. John punched Hyland quickly in the face twice. Hyland delivered a punch back, making the letter float to the ground, sending it to John's left temple. John answered by slamming his fist into Hyland's nose more than likely breaking it as blood streamed from both nostrils.

"Don't ever speak of her again," John said savagely.

He thought he saw a flash of fear in Hyland's eyes but from his outward pain it was hard to tell. John looked to the letter and wanted to grab it, but the guards had already grabbed him and handcuffed him before he could.

"You fucking idiots never learn do ya?" said one of the guards as Hyland was also being handcuffed.

John didn't care about what was being said. His adrenaline was still coursing through his veins.

He felt himself being lead back inside. He had one guard on each side of him. He heard a third guard behind him talking more than likely to the governor. As he was coming back to his senses, he knew where he was being lead. He had never been to this part of the prison, but he knew he was being taken to solitary. They stopped once they were down a small corridor. They opened a door and pushed him inside. As they removed the cuffs, he noticed the room had a bed, a toilet, and a sink. Nothing else. Not even a sliver of a window.

"What the hell were you thinking, Bates? You're usually one to stay out of trouble."

He knew not all of the guards could be trusted. He wished he could be honest, but if he was would all of his letters end up being passed around and read? No, he didn't want that to happen.

"Hyland deserved it," he said simply.

It was then he saw another set of guards taking Hyland further down the corridor. He would be in one of the other rooms in solitary as well.

"Well, now you're stuck in here. Governor said for a month. Your meals will be brought to you, no yard time, no working, and no correspondence or visitation. I hope it was worth it, Bates. Next time you'll be on the dangerous prisoner list, so don't continue to be a prick alright?"

He decided not to respond but rather say, "What about my things?"

"Your stuff will be locked up in the governor's office until you're released. Better play nice or you'll end up in here longer."

After that, the guards left and locked the door behind them. John felt some relief his things wouldn't be in the cell for Leonard to comb through, though he had done so already at least with the one letter.

Lowering himself onto the foreign thin mattress, he felt guilt begin to consume him from the inside out. He could never regret what he had done to Hyland, and if he had had more time he would have done more. His guilt was he knew he wouldn't be able to communicate with Anna for a month maybe more if they wanted to keep him locked up in solitary. His head was killing him from where Hyland had sent a hard shot to his temple. He moved on the bed until he was lying down. He closed his eyes and pictured Anna waiting on a letter that wouldn't come.

* * *

That same evening while John was spending his first night in solitary, Anna was at home writing her reply.

 _Dear John,_

She chewed on the end of her pen as she decided what she wanted to write. When she knew she placed the tip of the pen back on the paper.

 _I always find comfort in knowing you are doing well. I'm glad we both have been. We did get a break from the rain, and the warm days have been nice and not too warm. I'm glad they don't make you go outside during bad weather. That would just be silly. A weight room? Do you lift weights, Mr. Bates? I'm asking for a friend ;)._

She chuckled at her own teasing. She found she quite enjoyed it.

 _Your response to my 'loaded question' did answer my question. All of those things sound wonderful. I would love for you to one day visit my shop. I could show you around. I could even give you some behind the scene tours and samples, if you're good that is. I don't give free samples to just anyone. The tea shop sounds lovely. I wouldn't mind that at all. So, you're a ManU fan, hm? I think it's time for a secret, but don't tell anyone. I've never been to premier league football match before. I can hear you gasping in shock now! Yes, I know it's a tragedy. I've never had anyone to go with before, but it looks like you may change that for me. I would love to attend a match with you. Who knows maybe you might convert me from being a Leeds United fan, but we shall see x._

She lowered her pen to take a drink of water. She smiled as she thought of the pair of them cheering for the same club or her possibly giving him a hard time and cheering for Leeds. It was a pleasant thought either way. She picked up her pen to continue.

 _I will drop the subject of your last job for now. Just please keep in mind that I'm here. That's all that I will say about it. I'm ready when you are. It wasn't hard for me to guess you've had your hand in the biscuit jars more than you should. It was sweet of your mother to bake enough to share with the other children. She sounds like she was a very caring and loving woman, and you've no doubt gained those qualities as well. You think your mother would have loved me? I don't see how you would know that just by my letters but thank you for the sentiment. You're more than welcome. Her name is now nicely displayed in front of the shortbread. My partner Daisy liked the name as well._

She stopped writing again to think about the next part. She thought maybe John had been right about her being in a little rut. Maybe she should take a day and go to Scarborough. It was only an hour and a half or so from Downton. The thought made her wonder what part of Yorkshire John lived in. She assumed he lived close since he had been to The Printed Page. The sea might be just the small escape she needed.

 _You may be right. I might be in a rut. I might take this coming Sunday and go to Scarborough for the day. I know it's a drive, but the sea would be worth it. It would be nice to sit on the shore for a while. I'll let you know if I end up going. The scent most certainly is lavender, and it is the scent I wear most of the time. I'm glad you like it as well. Maybe I'll have to surprise you with it every now and then. I will gladly share this with you and more. Well, I'll talk to you soon. I hope you sleep well x._

 _P.S. - If you'd like to tell me another of your favorites. I'll keep the thoughts coming._

 _P.P.S. - We will agree to disagree. You're a much better person than you give yourself credit for._

 _Always yours,_

 _Anna x_

Satisfied with her she had written, she folded the finished missive and placed it inside an envelope. After she sealed it she placed a kiss to the flap where it would be opened before placing it face up on the desk. She wrote out the information on the envelope by memory and kept it on her desk to be posted the following day.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Oh my... John in solitary! Thank you for reading!_


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** _I know this took longer than expected. I'm hoping to get back into updating regularly._

 **Disclaimer:** _Same 1-16._

* * *

The scent of honeyed lavender filled his mind. It had only been six days since he had been in solitary confinement, and he was already feeling its impact. Being by himself didn't bother him. He thought it rather nice for him to be by himself for a little while, but the fact he wouldn't be able to communicate with Anna for some time killed him. He wouldn't have to wonder if she would worry; he knew she would. She didn't deserve to stress over why he wasn't writing her.

He sighed as he laid on his back and looked up at the white washed ceiling. He wanted to feel as though this would be a good thing. Maybe she would see she could do much better than him. He knew she was developing feelings for him, and God help him he for her, but maybe this would give her time to think things through. It would be easy to lie to himself and say he hoped she came to her senses and backed away from him, but in his heart he hoped more than anything she wouldn't. She filled his days with such joy, and he found happiness in getting to know her. They had grown over the months to be able at times to read between the lines of what the other one was saying or not saying. It was a growing intimacy he didn't wish to lose though he already knew if she wanted to stop communication he wouldn't begrudge her for it. After all, it would be looking as though he had broken communication with her. It would look as though he were pushing her away and didn't want to write her anymore, which couldn't be further from the truth.

His head throbbed.

Would she wait for him? And if she did, would she believe his excuse? What if there would be a letter waiting on him telling him he had hurt her by not writing her?

He also missed his beloved book. He had grown accustomed to reading a poem each evening before he went to sleep. The feeling of its now familiar weight was a great comfort to him, which he was now more acutely aware. It was his connection to the outside, as well as to her, along with the letters. The reading and thinking of her helped him to rest better as he slept. For years he had had trouble sleeping. More often than not he had wished, and sometimes begged, for sleep to come. It was his only break from his life, which unfortunately before prison he had aided with the assistance of strong drink. Now, however, she was his aid in a restful sleep, which he very much preferred, though he hoped that would remain true.

He sniffed back some tears that had formed at the brim of his eyes. He rolled onto his side to try to get in a more comfortable position. The mattress in this room was even worse than the one he normally slept on, which was saying something. The primal, protective side of him hoped Hyland was still in pain a few doors down from him. He had used Leonard as a pawn on his chess board, promising him God knows what if he brought him one of his letters. Anna was sure to be the talk of the prison for some time. He had wanted to avoid that so badly, but he had failed her. He hadn't even met her yet or heard her lovely voice, and yet he had already failed her. He shouldn't be surprised at himself. His whole life had been a chain reaction of failures, one after the other after the other. Why would this be any different?

He silently asked for her forgiveness. He hoped maybe she would sense his forgiveness in some form. He needed her to know he was sorry because she was the only thing he cared about. The realization of that both settled and destroyed him. Whatever form of relationship they had would now be on a ledge teetering back and forth until they landed safely on the ground or fell off the cliff. The next few weeks would seem like a lifetime as he waited to see what awaited him when he got out.

* * *

Anna furrowed her brow as she locked her post box back. Two weeks and still no letter from John.

She turned around and walked up the flights of stairs to her flat. She hoped he was okay. It wasn't like him not to try to reply as soon as he could, but maybe the postal service was running behind.

She kicked the door closed behind her as she entered the flat.

"I never thought I'd see a chocolate covered face with a frown," Gwen teased from the sofa.

"Is it all over me really?"

She must had been so preoccupied she'd forgotten to look at herself all day.

"No, just a streak on your left cheek. Everything go okay today?"

Anna dropped her purse onto the coffee table and sank down on the other side of the sofa.

"I have no complaints at the shop. Business is doing great."

Gwen tucked her legs up underneath her as she gave Anna her attention.

"But..."

Anna sighed and shook her head.

"It's nothing."

"I don't believe you."

Anna lifted her eyes to meet Gwen's.

"Honestly, I'm fine."

One of Gwen's eyebrows raised. "You can't pull the 'I'm fine' thing on me. I'm a woman too ya know. All women know 'I'm fine' is code for anything but fine. You can tell me."

Anna got into a more comfortable position on the couch by placing one arm along the back of it so she was turned more towards Gwen.

She cleared her throat and said, "Well, it's been a while since I've heard from John is all."

"How long?" Gwen asked sincerely.

"Two weeks."

Gwen's eyes widened. "Goodness, that is a while. At least for you two."

Anna felt even more deflated after Gwen's comment.

"I mean. I'm sure everything is fine. Maybe his letter got lost in the post."

"Maybe, but I'm not sure."

"Have things been going okay lately?"

"Yeah, everything has been great which makes me wonder why he's been silent for two weeks."

"Maybe your letter didn't make it to him," Gwen shrugged. "You could try sending another one. Maybe he thinks it's you that hasn't written."

She felt her heart rate quicken at the idea of that. What if that were the case? What if he thought she had stopped writing him? She had promised herself she would never stop writing anyone after she had let her sister down. Oh God, what if John thought she had given up on him?

"Anna?" Gwen spoke breaking her from her horrible thoughts.

"Sorry. I... I need to go write him."

"Did I make you feel worse?" Gwen asked.

Anna stood up and looked to her friend.

"No, but I'm worried you might be right. I need to get him another letter in case what you said is true. I can't have him thinking I forgot about him."

Gwen stood as Anna started to walk away. Gwen placed a hand on her should to stop her.

"Anna."

Anna turned to look at her.

"Look, I'm not saying this is the case, but if he were to ever stop communicating it doesn't mean you let him down. These things happen."

"That's not going to happen," Anna said as she shook her head.

"All I'm saying is that I don't want you to blame yourself if something does."

Gwen had been there when Anna tore her own self down over her sister. She had never seen anyone blame themselves so harshly as Anna had done. She knew her friend's feelings for this pen pal had grown well above writing companion level, and she didn't want her to go down the same slippery slope she had before.

"But you see," Anna said more firmly, "it's not. I'm going to write to him again, and we will pick up where we left off."

At that Anna turned and walked into her room closing the door behind her.

Once alone, she immediately sat down at her desk and placed some paper in front of her. Grabbing a pen, she started to write what was on her mind.

 _Hey John,_

 _It's been two weeks since I've heard from you. I'm not complaining, it's just I hope everything is okay. Gwen had suggested maybe you hadn't received my last letter, so I'm sending another one just in case. If you didn't get it, I hope you know I would never intentionally not write to you. I never want you to feel ignored or unwanted. That is the very last thing I want you to feel. If you did receive my last letter, then I hope you aren't unwell. If you have been feeling poorly then I will patiently wait until you are better, but please let me know how you are, truly. Even if it's something brief, I'd rather know what's going on._

 _I miss you._

 _You've become a part of my life, and when I don't see a letter from you in my post box it feels as though something is missing. I know I may be being silly. It's only been two weeks, but you are important to me. So, I'll let you tell me if you received my last letter. If not then I'll try to recall what I wrote to you._

 _I'm always here if you need to talk. I don't care what it is about. If you're going through something, I want to help if I can. I know I've told you all of this many times, but I never want you to forget it._

 _Please write soon else I'll worry._

 _Always yours,_

 _Anna x_

After she was finished the folded the letter, placed it in an envelope, sealed it, and filled out the front.

She wanted to get it in the post immediately for the morning pick up. If she did, he would hopefully get it the following morning, which meant a letter back to her in four days.

The post office was closed, so she wouldn't be able to go select a special stamp. She reached inside her top desk drawer and collected a regular postage stamp from the small roll she kept there. Closing the drawer, she placed the stamp on the envelope and stood up.

She walked out of her room to head down to the outgoing post box.

* * *

John stared at his food tray next to him on his bed. He still found it odd he got to eat in silence even though he had been doing this for every meal the last two weeks. He was accustomed to eating quickly and quietly minus the brief conversation with the few he felt comfortable speaking. Being confined to his own space, he got to eat slower and not worry about who was plotting what. No, he didn't have his usual worries, but new ones had filled the void.

He picked up his plain piece of bread and took a bite from it. He didn't need a calendar on the wall to know how many days had passed. He kept track of it internally. Two weeks had passed since he had been in confinement. He kept thinking to himself he was worried about Anna, but the truth was he worried about himself. Anna was strong and independent. If she thought he ditched her then she would be fine in time. She would still have her life, her business, her friends. He on the other hand would go back to the way it was before her. Day in and day out of nothing to look forward to and no one to really talk to. He fretted he wouldn't be able to go back to that. He worried how much he needed her. He was now dependent on her as bad as that might sound, and that was what he thought about while locked up by himself. He wanted her to be waiting for him as selfish as he knew it was. It would be another two weeks before he was out, and then a few days before he could get word to her.

He took another bite of bread before dropping it back to his tray. He picked up his water cup and drained it. He could tell he had lost more weight. It didn't surprise him. He was once a sturdy build, but with the food issued to them here plus him not eating all of the food, he was much thinner than he had been in his adult life. He wondered if Anna would find him attractive.

He laughed out loud at the thought. Grabbing his half eaten tray, he stood up and placed the tray near the door as he had been told to do. Still standing, he paced back and forth in the small cell.

"You? Attractive? Now?" he thought to himself.

A sad smile formed on his face. Of course he wasn't. Anna would probably run for the hills as soon as she saw him. If she ever got to see him. Here he was thinking about Anna being able to see him, but he wouldn't be out for a long time yet. His mind jumped from self-loathing to thinking of her. He hoped she was selling tons of, as she now calls it, Margaret's shortbread. He hoped she was happy and healthy. He hoped she didn't hate him.

His mind raced and jumped as it had done since he landed in here. He felt as though he could feel the confusion she was feeling. He knew if the shoes was on the other foot, and he was left in the dark not knowing what was going on, he would be out of his mind with worry. If he believed in a higher power, he would pray repeatedly for telekinetic powers. He would speak directly into her thoughts and calm her.

He tried hard not to think of the other men speaking about her. It only fueled the blaze he knew he would have to smother if he wanted to keep out of this section of the prison. It also wouldn't help his chances of parole, if that were ever to become an option.

With a deep sigh, he sat back down on the bed and then laid himself down. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing to calm himself, hoping the next two weeks would fly by.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** _Happy Labor Day to all my American pals. If you have the day off I hope you're enjoying it. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter x._

 **Disclaimer** : _Same 1-17._

* * *

Anna felt tears sting her eyes as she pulled her key from the post box. She had waited another full week for a response even though it had taken everything in her to wait that long. By day four, she was already jumping to conclusions and had sent yet another letter to him, but now after a full week she was beside herself. As the tears came, she pressed a hand to her mouth as she flew up the stairs. She didn't understand what was happening.

She quickly entered her flat and closed the door. She was thankful it was her day off, and Gwen wasn't home. She needed time and space to think. She threw her keys onto the table by the door and set about pacing the room.

She thought maybe he was truly trying to cut communication, but it just didn't make sense when their letters had been going so well. She just couldn't believe he wouldn't even say goodbye to her not after all they had shared with each other. So, what was it then? Was he seriously ill? Injured?

She stopped her pacing as dread forcefully consumed her.

Was he...?

"No!" she thought to herself.

She could not think that. She would not allow herself to go there.

Did they stop the pen pal program? Surely if they had she would have received some kind of notice about it, but it was the prison after all. She guessed they would send something like that if they felt like it though.

Three weeks. It was driving her mad not knowing what was going on. Three letters he had now not replied. All she really wanted was to know he was okay. If he didn't want to write her then fine, even though it would break her heart, but she at least needed to know no harm had come to him. It's like he just fell off the face of the earth.

She had even re-read the letters he had sent her to see if there had been some hidden warning about him breaking things off. She hadn't found anything suggesting it. It was very much the opposite. He enjoyed writing her as much as she enjoyed writing him.

She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. She had had other pen pals just stop writing because they simply didn't have much to say to one another or not much in common, but with John things were different. Everything was different with him. Everything felt right with him. So, why the silence?

She stopped her pacing and looked out the window for inspiration of some kind. She felt helpless and needed to find a way to find out what she needed to know. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass and looked out to the street below. She saw a woman from the complex across the street come out of the building, get into her car parked along the street, and drive away.

She stepped back from the window and at that moment knew what she was going to do.

She was going to York.

She strode into her room and got herself ready to make the trip. She changed into a modest dress and flats and tidied her hair and makeup. Satisfied with how she looked, she gathered her purse, phone, and keys and left her flat. She made her way down the stairs and opened the lobby door to the outside. She walked the short distance to her car and got in. As she buckled herself in and started the engine she was filled with adrenaline and nerves. She pulled out onto the road and set off for the prison.

She knew he had said he didn't want her to visit, but to her this was a special circumstance. Her main reason for going was to check on his welfare. He couldn't really be upset with her for that, and truthfully at that very moment she didn't care if it upset him or not. She needed to know for her own sanity. Maybe she would even get to meet him. It felt like butterflies had burst inside of her at the thought of being able to properly meet him. Made this is what they needed. Maybe they needed the face to face meeting. She exhaled a deep breath as the car carried her in John's direction.

* * *

She had never visited the men's prison before. As she walked to the front gate she looked up to the towering building. It looked older than she had imagined it would. It didn't appear they did renovations on the place very often. She could see a few, tiny windows dotted along the outer, higher wall and wondered if one of those windows might be John's. It made her heart heavy to see that was the only amount of daylight he received throughout the day other than his yard time.

She was thankful for choosing to wear flats. She hadn't expected the long walk to the gate, but she guessed there was some kind of security reason for it. She shifted her purse strap higher on her shoulder as she reached the gate. A guard stepped around the corner.

"May I help you?"

"Um. Yes. May I speak with someone in administration?"

"Regarding?"

"I participate in the pen pal program. I would like to discuss one of your inmates."

He walked a few paces away and said a few words into his radio. She heard a mumbled reply come through before he walked back to the gate.

"It's your lucky day. Someone will speak with you."

"Thank you."

"Which inmate?"

"John Bates."

He unlocked and rolled the gate back just enough for her to enter. After she stepped inside he quickly locked the gate back.

"Follow me."

Anna did as she was told and followed the guard to what looked to be the administrative part of the prison. He escorted her inside the door.

"They will take it from here, Miss."

"Thank you."

At that, he turned around and walked back outside to his post.

Another guard walked down the corridor in her direction.

"Hello, Miss..."

"Anna Smith."

"Miss Smith, we are going to need you to go through this metal detector," he said as he pointed to it. "We will also need to search your belongings before I can speak with you properly."

"Okay."

They both stepped inside the room with the metal detector. Anna followed the instructions as they were given to her. She passed through the metal detector without making the alarm sound, and her purse did not take long to search.

"My office is just a few doors down."

She nodded and followed the guard to his office.

Once inside the guard offered her a seat as he took the one behind his desk.

"So, Miss Smith, it's not often we see the prisoner's pen pals. What brings you in today?"

He typed some information into his computer as though he were documenting their conversation.

"Well, I am pen pals with John Bates."

He typed in something else and said, "John Bates. Prisoner 1919. Did he do something to upset you, Miss Smith?"

She had already repeated his issued number twice in her head.

"What? No. In fact, he's a lovely writing companion."

"All right, so what exactly can I help you with."

"It's just... I haven't heard from him in three weeks. I understand the rules of the program. If he wishes to not write anymore then that is up to him, but I needed to come to see if he is okay."

"The matter of whether or not an inmate of ours writes letters isn't really a concern to the administration."

"I understand that. I do. I would just like to know if he is well, and if it would be possible to visit him."

She felt her hands get clammy as she waited for the man's response.

"We can not give details out about a prisoner unless the person is an emergency contact. He typed something into the computer and looked at his screen.

"Prisoner 1919 does not have an emergency contact on file, so we can't tell you anything regarding his welfare."

Anna was suddenly torn between feeling annoyed by the man in front of her and sad that John didn't have an emergency contact. She shook herself out of her thoughts.

"Would I be able to visit him?"

"He isn't having visitation."

His answer was so vague.

"Will he be having it soon?"

"That is something I do not know. All I can tell you is he isn't seeing anyone. Anything else I can help you with?"

Now feeling angry, Anna stood to her feet and straightened her back.

"No, thank you."

"I will see you out."

* * *

Making it back to her little corner of the world, she didn't go directly home. She stopped off at the park and was now walking along the path as she tried to sort everything out. She found the tree she normally used for shade and sat down. Leaning her back against the trunk, she felt suddenly wistful. Was it possible he had informed the guards he didn't want to see her after she had suggested she might visit? Is that why he wasn't seeing anyone?

It was hard to bring herself to believe it. Something inside her knew that wasn't the reason. No, there was something else keeping him from writing back to her. Maybe his cell mate? Maybe something beyond his control?

She sighed as her thoughts pulled her in one-too-many directions and decided she would just continue to write to him until she received some sort of reply from him even if it wasn't one she wanted to receive. She wouldn't give up on him. She needed him to know that no matter what was going on with him that she was still here waiting for his return. Feeling the urge to write him, she pulled out the paper and pen she had tucked away in her purse. She then removed a book and laid it in her lap. With the paper laid upon the book, she began to write.

 _My Darling John,_

 _I just need you to know that I am here, and I will continue to wait to hear back from you. I don't know what is going on, but I do know there is something. I hope you know that no matter what it is I am with you. My thoughts and my heart are there with you. I am currently sitting under what I consider to be my tree in the park, but that was not where I was earlier today. Earlier I came to see you. I know you asked me not to come, but John, I needed to know if you were okay. Honestly, it's driving me mad sitting here wondering if you are in good health or if you are ill. I felt as though I had waited as patiently as I could, but after so long I could not stop myself from making the trip to the prison. As you may well know, my trip was unsuccessful. I was told nothing other than you were not accepting visitors. I hope that is not on my account. I would never want you to keep from seeing anyone just on the chance I may visit. I only came because... Well... I love you, John. I've known that for a while now, and us not communicating has cemented that fact for me. I need to hear from you even if it's the briefest of letters. Just something as simple as telling me what is happening would fill me with relief. I am waiting for your reply as patiently as I can._

 _Love to you always,_

 _Anna x_

* * *

"We'll escort you back tomorrow, Bates," one of the guards had said as his dinner tray had been collected.

He had made it; the full month of solitary. It was only hours now until he would be thrown back into his normal routine. If you wanted to call it that. He honestly felt somewhat like a coward at the thought of returning to the group. He already knew he'd be tempted to punch the daylights out of anyone who made remarks about Anna, but he would have to stretch his self control as far as it could go. He could not allow himself to lose his temper and end up back in here. It wouldn't be fair to her, and truthfully wouldn't be fair to him.

It was something that his biggest concern was what would await him in letters. From the outside looking in it was obvious he had many other things to worry about, but he couldn't care less about his own self. He only cared about her. Depending on what she had said, his first order of business was to get himself to a pen and piece of paper so he could soothe her. He wanted to assure her, to explain to her what happened. Well, his edited version of what had happened. He wouldn't dare disrespect her by telling her men were drooling over her.

But what if she had said goodbye?

His throat tighten as a rush of emotion threatened to overtake hm. He had tried hard to not think about such things. It would be the worst possible outcome of all this if it did happen. He told himself yet again not to believe it. He had to believe Anna wouldn't give up on him, and in his heart he knew he was believing the right thing.

He breathed in deep and exhaled. Soon he would be able to read Anna's words, and soon he would know where they were headed.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** _Same 1-18._

* * *

He didn't think the handcuffs were necessary, but they were already being secured around his wrists. All they were doing was taking him back to his cell. It wasn't like he was going to make a run for it. He felt much too weak for that.

"Your things will be returned after breakfast, Bates."

The smallest bit a relief came to him. Yes, he wanted his possessions back, but he did not want Leonard to have access to his property again.

"Let's go."

He was forced forward and out of the cell into the corridor. He looked just to make sure Hyland wasn't being released at the same time. It appeared he wasn't, and he hoped Hyland would get a extra month for being the instigator. He had always been the one to leave well enough alone but not that day. No, that day Hyland deserved what he got.

The walk felt nice to him as they combed through the prison. He hadn't had yard time in a month and walking around a tiny room could only do so much. His leg muscles stretched as they took a flight of stairs up to where his cell block would be. The stiffness wasn't a welcome feeling, but he managed to get up the stairs while handcuffed. On the top landing, they turned to the left and his cell came into view.

The door opened, and his eyes widened. Wasn't it still too early for breakfast?

One of the guards began taking the handcuffs off his wrists as he continued to survey the room.

Feeling confused, he asked the guard taking off his cuffs, "It's still a bit early for breakfast isn't it, sir?"

The guard placed the cuffs securely into his utility belt and replied, "Langley has been transferred to a different cell block."

The sheer will of force it took for him not to smile let alone dance a jig was astounding. His face remained impassive as though the information didn't impact him one way or the other, but it impacted him greatly.

He nodded his understanding.

"In you go."

He stepped inside as soon as he had been told. The door closed and locked behind him.

He stepped closer to the bunk beds before he let his smile form on his face. He no longer had to share a space with Leonard. He combed his fingers through his hair and sat down on his bed. His bad leg already felt sore just from the walk across the prison. He could only imagine how it would have felt if he hadn't exercised it everyday. His eyes looked up and over to the small desk along the cinder block wall. A short, breathy chuckle rumbled in his chest. Right there is where he had gotten to know her. He sat in a plain wooden chair and wrote upon a simple wooden desk as he learned about an incredible person in the most pure way. Becoming acquainted with someone through letters was a thing of the past, but he had been extremely blessed to get to know Anna this way. So many times physical representations or other worldly things could come between two people before they even had the chance to know who the other person was. It wasn't to say he wasn't nervous of the possibility of ever meeting her. He knew he was older and had a disability, but if and when they were to meet and Anna only wanted to be his friend because of these facts he would take it. He wasn't foolish enough to expect her to fall into his arms, but he did wish to always remain friends with her if nothing else.

He sighed deeply as he thought about it. Soon he would know if that wish were coming true.

He jumped slightly as his door unlocked. He must have been daydreaming about her longer than he thought as he rose to his feet for breakfast.

* * *

"I shouldn't even be going really," Anna said with her hands on her hips.

"Don't say that," Gwen replied as she stood up from Anna's bed.

Anna sighed deeply. "So this one looks okay?"

"It looks great."

"I wish you would have given me more than a days notice."

"It slipped my mind until Mr. Crawley asked me if I was excited about tomorrow evening, well this evening now."

"I would have gone to look for something new."

"Anna, you look bleeding gorgeous as always. It's just a work thing. We'll be there for a while and leave."

Lowering her hands from her hips, Anna complimented, "You look pretty, too, Gwen."

"Of course, don't I always say we look great?"

They both laughed as Gwen left to slip into her shoes.

Anna turned to look into her mirror one more time. Her dress was a off white, airy, halter style. It fit nicely for the summer time get together. She just hoped she looked appropriate for a company function even though Gwen had already assured her she did.

"Ready?" Gwen called from the doorway.

"Yep," Anna replied as she collected her handbag from the desk.

The car ride felt rather short as they pulled up to what appeared to be the largest home Anna had ever seen. She gasped as they were directed to where to park the car.

"Oh my God," Anna stared as they got out of the now parked car.

"I know," Gwen stated as she rounded the car to stand beside Anna.

Anna turned her head to look at Gwen.

"You've been here before?"

"Only for the Christmas party last year."

"It definitely makes a statement doesn't it?"

"You could say that." Gwen chuckled. "Now, the social gathering is out back."

They walked around the large home to see an immense white tent in the back garden. There were several round tables with chairs, numerous wait staff buzzing in and out of the house, and a low melodic sound floating through the air as they approached the tent.

"Ah! So you made it Gwen!"

They both turned at the sound of the voice they heard.

"Oh, Mr. Crawley. Yes," Gwen replied with a kind smile.

"And who might this be?"

"Mr. Crawley, this is Anna Smith my best friend and flat mate," Gwen introduced.

Anna looked at the man in front of her. He was tall in a black suit and middle-aged. He had graying hair and a pair of very kind eyes.

He reached out his hand and said, "Hello, I'm Robert Crawley, the owner of Grantham's."

Anna shook his hand and responded, "Yes, Mr. Crawley. Gwen tells me often how nice it is to work for you."

They dropped hands as he replied, "Please, call me Robert, and that goes for you too Gwen. We aren't at the office today. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Smith."

"Everyone calls me Anna, and it's a pleasure to meet you as well," Anna said politely.

"Gwen."

Both Anna and Gwen looked to their right to see a woman approaching Robert's side.

"Cora, it's lovely to see you again," Gwen greeted.

"And you, Gwen. I'm so glad you could make it." Cora smiled.

"Dear, this is Gwen's friend, Anna Smith," Robert added.

"Oh, how silly of me," Gwen rushed to say. "Anna, this is Cora Crawley."

Both the ladies extended their hands and shook them gently before releasing.

"Pleasure to meet you," said Anna.

"You know," Cora said then paused for a second. "I feel as though I've seen you before."

"Oh?" Robert quipped as he took another look at Anna to see if he too remembered her.

Anna looked closely at Cora, and she too looked familiar for some reason.

"Why can't I think of it?" Cora asked aloud.

"Well, Anna does own a local business," Gwen interjected.

Cora gasped. "You own that sweet shop, The Cocoa Tree, by the park."

It then came to Anna where she had seen her before.

"Yes, I do. You came in when I first tried out the chocolate shortbread."

"That's right!"

"So, that shortbread you brought home came from Anna's shop?" Robert asked Cora.

"It did." Cora grinned.

Robert looked to Anna and confessed, "That was some of the best shortbread I've had in my life. In fact, I was hoping Cora would stop by soon to get more."

Anna chuckled softly. "It has been selling well, so I bake them fresh daily now."

"Did you hear that Cora?" Robert asked as he nudged Cora's side.

Cora rolled her eyes. "Yes, dear. I did."

"Does that mean you'll be paying Anna a visit?" he asked.

"I guess it does."

Robert gave a quick, hidden wink to Anna which made her smile.

"I'd be happy to have you come anytime," Anna stated.

"Thank you, Anna. Nice to see you again. You girls have a good time, and there is plenty to eat and drink," Cora replied.

"We will. Thank you," Gwen said.

As the Crawleys walked away to talk to other employees and guests, Gwen turned to face Anna.

"Well, that went swimmingly."

"I had no idea I was talking to Cora Crawley when I sold her the shortbread."

"You must have won her over when you did."

"Why? She is not normally nice?"

"It's not that. She's just a less... personable... with the employees than Robert is. She's nice enough though."

"Hopefully she'll come buy more."

"I don't think you'll have to hope for that. Come on let's go find us something to drink."

* * *

The signal for breakfast had just sounded as Baker quickly removed a piece of folded paper from up his sleeve and handed it to John.

John whispered, "What is this?"

John looked around and quickly slid it up his own sleeve before he lifted his tray.

Baker took his tray in his hands and said, "Her letter."

Baker then walked away to place his tray on the counter. John followed suit and slightly touched his sleeve as they headed back to their cell blocks. As he entered his cell he wanted the door to slide closed quickly. He wanted to take the paper from his sleeve and look it over. He had thought for sure he would never see that particular letter from her ever again, but somehow Baker he managed to pick it up and keep it. How had he known he would be at breakfast that morning, or did he carry it to breakfast every morning in case he showed up? Either way, he was grateful.

He stood in his cell as the door remained open. It confused him as to why it would be left open for this long, but when he saw a guard walking in with a cardboard box he was no longer confused. The guard set out his things on the small table. His book of poems was laid down, and he felt himself immediately longing for it. It had been so long since he had been able to read anything, but he especially missed being able to read from her book.

When the guard finished placing things on the desk he raised the cardboard box and walked over to John. He reached inside the cardboard box, pulled out a bundle of letters, and handed them over.

John stared blankly at the bundle and then raised his head.

"Are all these for me?"

"There isn't another John Bates in here that I'm aware of," the guard replied dryly before he turned around the left the cell.

The door slid closed and locked before John looked back down at the envelops. His hands shook ever so slightly as he saw her writing on the first one. She had written him, and written him more than he thought she would had. He suddenly felt dizzy with want, relief, anxiety, and peace all at once. It didn't bear thinking about him waiting to read what she had written. He wanted, no needed, to read her words.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and placed the stack of letters beside him. He quickly retrieved the letter he had placed up his sleeve and placed it under his pillow. He then turned to open the first one and began to read.

The first letter was her response the the last letter he wrote her. He cherished every letter from her, but right now he knew this particular letter would not hold the answer he was looking for. He would go back later and re-read this one.

He opened the next one and let his eyes begin to devour the page.

 _Hey John,_

 _It's been two weeks since I've heard from you. I'm not complaining, it's just I hope everything is okay._

"You have every right to complain," he thought to himself.

 _Gwen had suggested maybe you hadn't received my last letter, so I'm sending another one just in case. If you didn't get it, I hope you know I would never intentionally not write to you. I never want you to feel ignored or unwanted. That is the very last thing I want you to feel._

Was she saying she felt this way? He had made her feel unwanted? He felt his stomach twist into knots.

 _If you did receive my last letter, then I hope you aren't unwell. If you have been feeling poorly then I will patiently wait until you are better, but please let me know how you are, truly. Even if it's something brief, I'd rather know what's going on._

 _I miss you._

"Oh God, Anna, I've missed you, too," he whispered into the stillness of his cell. For the life of him he couldn't get his hands to still. He missed her more than he had wanted to admit to himself.

 _You've become a part of my life, and when I don't see a letter from you in my post box it feels as though something is missing. I know I may be being silly. It's only been two weeks, but you are important to me. So, I'll let you tell me if you received my last letter. If not then I'll try to recall what I wrote to you._

He knew he had to write to her as soon as he was done. She was a part of his life, too, and the thought of making her wait another moment weighed heavily on him.

 _I'm always here if you need to talk. I don't care what it is about. If you're going through something, I want to help if I can. I know I've told you all of this many times, but I never want you to forget it._

 _Please write soon else I'll worry._

 _Always yours,_

 _Anna x_

He folded the paper and thought about what was said. She was worried, which she had every right to be. He would have been worried out of his mind as well. She wanted to still write to him which was a good sign, but there were still letters waiting to be read. He read the next two which were similar in there message to him. She told him she was confused by his silence, but she also kept reminding him she wasn't going anywhere. That continual reassurance was like a flotation device out on the rough seas. It was his anchor, his lifeline. Despite her feelings of obvious rejection, she hadn't given up on him yet. He thanked God for that even though it had been a very long time since he had thanked him for anything. After making sure everything was folded neatly and stacked in order, he reached for the last envelope and took it in his grasp.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds before he opened them again and released the letter from it's confines.

 _My Darling John,_

 _I just need you to know that I am here, and I will continue to wait to hear back from you._

Her message was still the same. She was still assuring him she was there waiting to hear from him. He couldn't say how much he admired her tenacity.

 _I don't know what is going on, but I do know there is something. I hope you know that no matter what it is I am with you. My thoughts and my heart are there with you._

Was it odd for him to think he could feel her spirit with him? Even during all the days and hours he doubted himself in the back of his mind he felt like she was there. Most days he didn't want to believe it, but how could he not now that she has said it several times over.

 _I am currently sitting under what I consider to be my tree in the park, but that was not where I was earlier today. Earlier I came to see you._

He inhaled a deep breath and allowed it to catch in his chest. His palms began to feel clammy, and his heart began beating boldly against his chest wall. He didn't know why, but he stood to his feet and laid the letter down on the top bunk. He gripped the side of the top bunk with both hands as he tried to control whatever it was he was feeling. He bowed his head and took a few breaths.

She had been here. She came to this unholy place. He had asked her not to come. He had explained why. His grip tightened as his heart tried to betray his mind. He wanted to feel more upset that he hadn't seen her. He wanted to wallow in self-pity that several guards had more than likely seen her, and he hadn't. How selfish could he be? How shallow to want to see what she looked like. He pushed against the metal of the frame out of frustration. He didn't really have the right to feel frustrated. She could do as she pleased. He only told her not to come to try to protect her, but Anna was nothing if not determined. After not hearing from him, she had taken matters into her own hands and came to the prison to visit him.

God, how he wished he could have visited her.

He took a couple more breaths to calm himself back down before he picked the letter back up and sat back down.

 _I know you asked me not to come, but John, I needed to know if you were okay. Honestly, it's driving me mad sitting here wondering if you are in good health or if you are ill. I felt as though I had waited as patiently as I could, but after so long I could not stop myself from making the trip to the prison._

In truth, could he have stopped himself from coming if the situation as in reverse? He doubted he could.

 _As you may well know, my trip was unsuccessful. I was told nothing other than you were not accepting visitors. I hope that is not on my account._

Nothing could be farther from the truth, he thought to himself.

 _I would never want you to keep from seeing anyone just on the chance I may visit. I only came because... Well... I love you, John. I've known that for a while now, and us not communicating has cemented that fact for me._

He had to re-read those words again to make sure he hadn't imagined them on the paper. He eyes honed in on 'I love you, John'. He felt his bottom lip begin to quiver. His eyes began to cloud over as his bottom lip shook from him trying his hardest not to cry. He sat the letter down on the bed beside him. He placed his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. How could it be? How could they have a connection like this with him in here? How could he have allowed himself to love her in return? Tears slipped down his palms and onto the cement floor as he admitted only to himself that he loved Anna Smith. He knew he shouldn't. He knew she shouldn't be caught up with a man like him. What in the world did he have to offer her? An association with a theft and a drunkard? A man who failed at most things in his life? A man who could not give her what she truly needed and should have?

She should have more than a reply letter. She deserved more than a convicted felon.

But if he knew all of these things, why was he so glad to read that she loved him? Could it just be as simple as he had known he had loved her for a while, too? Could it be as easy as two people loving one another despite all the obstacles?

Despite himself, he hoped that was the truth.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked over to the desk where the rest of his letters and book were. Though his eyes were still teary, he smiled as he thought of her. How courageous she had been to write her feelings to a man she hadn't seen. How lucky of him to have someone to love him again even if the situation wasn't ideal.

He sniffed and collected the letter for the third time.

 _I need to hear from you even if it's the briefest of letters. Just something as simple as telling me what is happening would fill me with relief. I am waiting for your reply as patiently as I can._

 _Love to you always,_

 _Anna x_

He folded the letter the placed it back in the envelope. He didn't want to tarnish it in the slightest with his tears or wet hands. He made sure the bundle of letters were neatly stacked and walked over to the desk to place them down next to the others. He moved his books away from the desk and took her book over to his bed. He then collected some paper and a pen and sat them in place on the desk.

He didn't sit down immediately to write. He needed some time to figure out what to say in return. Should he admit to his feelings as well and go down this path with her, or should he realize the truth that he shouldn't be having her waiting until he was out of prison? His heart and his mind where showing him two different visions, but he needed to figure out what to do sooner rather than later.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** _Hello, wonderful readers. I know I've been behind in posting, but I am still writing. For those of you still following, I hope you enjoy. x_

 **Disclaimer:** _Same 1-19._

* * *

She had tripped going up the stairs twice before entering her flat and running into her bedroom. She hadn't even cared to look around to see if Gwen was home before she closed her door. With quick efficiency, she deposited her belongings on her desk and slipped her shoes off. After that she picked the gray envelope up she had laid down on the desk and went to go sit up in bed.

The envelope felt full as she got herself comfortable. When she had looked inside the post box to see an envelope with his handwriting on it she thought she would simultaneously jump for joy and faint. Instead, she had reached for it with urgency and a big sigh of relief.

She couldn't help but begin to wonder what he may have written. Several scenarios played out in her mind's eye as she began to open the packet. When the flap opened fully she took the pages out. With a deep exhale she unfolded them.

 _Dear Anna,_

 _Where am I to begin? Let me first start by telling you that I am okay. I am not ill. I hope this puts you at ease. I was not able to write back to you until now. Something came up here which kept me from writing, but I will not bother you with those details. They are unimportant. What is important is that I can communicate with you again._

She felt herself relax at knowing he wasn't ill. She had been afraid he had been. Now, she was curious as to what details he was leaving out, and she very much doubted they were unimportant.

 _I sincerely apologize Anna. I never had any intention of making you upset or worry. There's no real reason to worry about me. I'm stuck here in this place. I'm not going anywhere. I only regret there was no way of notifying you that I would be silent for a little while. I would never stop writing to you without saying goodbye._

"There is every reason," she said to herself. How could he think there had been no reason to worry?

She didn't even want to entertain the thought of having to say goodbye to him.

 _Anna, you coming to the prison to check on me was very nice. I count myself truly blessed to know someone who is willing to make sure I am alright, but Anna this place isn't for someone like you. A person like you belongs a thousand miles away from here. I know you said you had to find out, and truly I don't blame you. I hope you will keep from coming to this vile place in the future. Such a beautiful light does not belong in a deep darkness._

This hadn't been the first time he had used that phrase about her being light and him being darkness. From what she had read she hadn't indicated any form of darkness, but that was the problem though wasn't it? She hadn't read any darkness. More than ever she needed to know what Mr. John Bates was keeping secret, and him writing to say she shouldn't come back made her want to go more.

 _I also do not keep visitors away because there is no need for it. I have never had a visitor while here. Well, until you were turned away that is, which was not under my control at the time. If I had been able I think I would have been powerless to deny your visit, but like I said it's better if you don't come to this place._

So, he would have met her if he'd been able? That made a small yet determined smirk pop up on her face.

 _Thank you for continuing to send me letters even though I couldn't send them in return. I enjoyed reading them even though I know I was causing you grief. Your kind words are always comforting, and I truly am grateful. You must know by now, Anna, that I care for you. How could it be possible for me to not? Your friendship has lifted my spirits in ways I thought were long gone. It's just... I am here, and you are there. That is the way it will be for some time. Your devotion and caring nature astonish me time and time again, but Anna if you knew all the details I'm not sure if you'd have relayed to me the same sentiment as you had written._

"Way to skirt around 'the sentiment'," she thought to herself. She should have known he wouldn't say it back even if that was how he truly felt.

 _You deserve so much. You deserve whatever your heart and soul desires._

"I'm glad you think so because I do as well," she said aloud.

 _I am not saying this to make you sad. Please, I don't think I could bear to know you were sad on top of the worry you've been living in. I am saying this because right now all I care about is whether you are happy or not. You should always be happy, and I could not possibly bring you the happiness you should be seeking. This tiny, cinder block room is a constant reminder that I have nothing to offer you or to anyone. So, enough of that, how are you? What have you been up to? Did you go to Scarborough? Meet new people? I can't wait to hear back from you, so I can read what exciting things you've been doing. Thank you again for thinking of me. I appreciate it more than you know._

 _Always,_

 _John x_

The wheels began turning in Anna's mind about how she could help John. She would need more information, but how would she get it if he wasn't willing to tell her? She would just have to find a way.

* * *

"It's five till closing can I go?" Jimmy asked Anna as she walked into the back room of the shop.

"Have you finished up like I asked?"

"I did. Everything is clean and ready to go for the morning," Jimmy replied as he pointed to the clean prepping station.

Anna eyed the area before she responded, "Alright. Have a good night, Jimmy."

"Thanks, boss," Jimmy smiled before he quickly made his way to the front.

Anna could faintly hear him speaking to someone, so she made her way out onto the shop floor to see who it was.

"Oh, there she is."

Anna recognized it was Cora Crawley speaking with Jimmy.

"Need me to stay?" Jimmy asked as he looked to Anna.

"No, Jimmy. Thank you. Goodnight."

As Jimmy closed the door behind him, Cora said, "You're closed. I can come back another day if you need to get going."

"Oh, no, it's okay really. I didn't have any plans," Anna assured with a polite smile.

"Well, I know we were only talking about the shortbread just the other day, but ever since Robert has been wanting me to come get some more."

Both the ladies chuckled.

"Good thing I have some then," Anna smiled as she walked to the case.

"I'm so glad," Cora commented as she stood just on the other side of the case.

"How are things at Grantham's?" Anna asked to make conversation.

Cora sighed, "I'm not really apart of the operations. Robert tells me things are going well. Our daughter, Mary, helps him with most things."

"Well, it's nice to have a family business," Anna replied as she prepared a box for the biscuits.

"Much like the one you have here."

"I believe mine is on a much smaller scale," Anna chuckled.

"Not any less as important though."

They smiled at each other.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"So, did you come up with this recipe yourself?"

"I didn't actually. How many?"

"Oh, better make it a full dozen this time."

"Great," Anna said cheerfully as she started to place pieces into the box.

"Family secret then?"

"Yes, in a way it is. A... friend... of mine gave me the recipe so I could sell it here."

"That was nice of them. I'm guessing it was this Margaret?" Cora asked as she pointed to the small display sign with Margaret's name on it.

"Margaret's son, John, gave it to me."

Anna closed the lid to the box as Cora's bow knitted together.

"Something the matter?" Anna asked as she looked to her.

"John and Margaret you said?" Cora asked as she looked back to Anna.

"Yes, that's right."

"I apologize if I'm being too forward, but would it happen to be Margaret and John Bates?"

Anna felt her heart pound a little bit quicker in her chest. Cora knew John?

"No, it's not forward, and um yes, yes it is."

Cora kept silent for a moment, so Anna decided to speak again.

"You know them?"

Cora sighed, "Yes, I do. What a small world. How do you know them? If I may ask."

"I don't know Margaret. I never did meet her I mean. And John..."

Cora nodded in understanding and also for her to continue.

Anna could sense Cora knew exactly where John was.

"I am John's pen pal," she admitted.

"My goodness."

"And how do you know him?"

"Everything is a very long story, but to make it short, John Bates was my husband's best friend. He used to also work for us at Grantham's."

Anna felt her throat dry up. This was it. This was her opportunity to figure out what happened, and how to help John.

"They are no longer friends?" Anna asked as she rang up the order.

"Not in the way they were, but questions about John would be better left to Robert," Cora said with finality.

"Blast," Anna cursed inwardly. She knew Cora wasn't going to stay here and have the long conversation she was dying to have.

Cora handed Anna the money as she said, "How is he?"

"As good as one can be where he is," she answered honestly even if she wondered if that was the truth herself.

"Yes," Cora answered simply as she took her change and the box.

"Well, thank you very much for staying open for me. I appreciate it, and I know Robert will be delighted."

"Not a problem. Stop by anytime."

At that, Cora turned and left the shop. Anna locked the door behind her and pressed a hand to her stomach.

Why would no one just come out with it and tell her what was going on?

The Crawley's knew John. John knew the Crawley's. Who else knew each other? Who would now know she was John Bates' pen pal?

She took another minute to gather herself before she gathered her things, locked the shop up, and walked home to think of what to do.

* * *

"Bates," Malone said in greeting in the yard.

"Malone, we haven't really spoken in a while. How are you?" John offered as he started walking again with Owen beside him.

"Doing okay and yourself?" Owen replied quietly.

John exhaled and said, "Better than I had been I suppose. Certainly good to have my own cell again."

"That Langley has kept to himself since you were in solitary. I think a lot of the other blokes thought it to be a low blow for him to sneak your letter to Hyland."

"What's done is done," John answered shortly.

"It is, but I think he's learned his lesson."

John's didn't feel the need to respond, so Owen spoke again.

"Is she nice?"

John felt a sudden warmth spread up his neck at being asked a question about Anna. He would like nothing more than to wax lyrical about her, but he had to be careful about what he said even to Owen.

"She is."

"That's good. Maybe I'll look into the program as well since you found someone nice to write to," Owen admitted.

Nice wasn't even close to describing her. Anna becoming his pen pal was more than likely the biggest blessing of his life. She was everything to him even if he couldn't be everything to her.

"That would be up to you," John commented vaguely and lightly.

"You think you'll keep in contact with her until you get out?"

They turned around and walked back the way they came.

"I plan on writing her until she wishes to no longer write me."

"It'd be cool if you met her."

John stopped walking but kept his gaze out in front of him.

"Sorry if I overstepped, Bates."

"It's okay," John finally replied and looked to him.

"It's just people like me can't plan for the future. I'm the kind that has to take it one day at a time," John continued.

"Same with me I guess."

"No, you're young. You've got plenty of time."

"You're not on the verge of being a pensioner. You've got more time than you're telling yourself."

John swallowed and looked back out across the yard.

"Yeah, maybe."

"I'll let you know if I sign up," Owen said before he walked away and left John with his thoughts.

When yard time was over, he waited in the queue for the post. He was eager to hear from her though he knew what he hadn't written to her wasn't entirely what she wanted to read. How could he had wrote those three words down though? He couldn't let himself be so selfish as to tell her he loved her when the future was so unsure. Everything would be different if they had met say in the park or in a shop. He would be able to do as he wished to do which was to put a smile on her face. He would be able to be with her and interact with her as two normal people would, but his situation was not normal. His situation could not possibly allow him to lead a person as precious as Anna down a path of wasting years of her life on him. He saw no problem in caring about one another, and he felt blessed that someone like her could ever love a person like him. But if he opened that door and declared what he was keeping deep inside him there would be no going back.

As he stepped to the front the guard was holding out a light pink envelope. He could already smell the honeyed lavender scent before he even took it into his grasp.

As he took it, he smirked and thought to himself, "She isn't going to make this easy is she?"

Gaining control of his facial features, he walked until he was in his cell. Once he was locked back inside he allowed his smirk to reappear.

He pulled out the small wooden chair and sat down. He looked to the envelope and wondered why she had chosen pink instead of the white she had always used. Not that it truly mattered, but he did enjoy seeing the bit of color. His eyes looked to the top right to see she had selected a specialty stamp. Her letters while he had been away had been standard postage stamps, so he was glad to see the single white daisy looking back at him. The feminine scent she had sprayed was beginning to freshen up the space around him. It was very much welcome. He'd rather smell the scent he simply called 'Anna' over the musty, staleness of his cell. He turned the envelope over and opened the flap so he could take the letter out.

Unfolding the pages, he leaned over the wooden table and began to read.

 _My Darling John,_

 _I am very much relieved to hear from you. I'm beyond glad that you seem to be okay. Whatever was keeping you from being able to write back I hope that doesn't happen again. I also doubt those details aren't important, but if you ever wish to tell me those details you know I'm here for you. I had every reason to worry, and I know you would have worried too._

She wasn't wrong.

 _I am not worried now, and you had better not discontinue writing me without a proper goodbye, John Bates, even though I wish for that never to happen. I don't know why that keeps getting brought up when I know that's not going to happen. How may you ask? You'll have to keep reading._

His eyebrow arched upward in curiosity.

 _You said that you are where you are, and I am where I am. This is most certainly true, but I am planning on changing that. I have heard you loud and clear about staying away from the prison, but I disagree with you. That is why I am coming back to see you. I contacted the administration, and they gave me the visitation days._

"Oh God," he breathed into the stillness. Anna Smith was one stubborn, determined woman, and he couldn't love her more.

 _The next one is very close, and who knows maybe it will come before you even receive this._

What day was it? What days were visitation usually? He had never kept track because he never had a reason. He momentarily looked around the cell as though there would be a calendar on the wall to indicate what day it was. He turned his head back towards the table and looked back down at the page.

 _I will be there whether you decide to come meet me or not. I believe I can help you, John. I want to help you. I need to help you. You do not belong where you are. I can feel it._

He closed his eyes tightly as the vision of how and why he ended up in prison filled in thoughts. What a mess it all had been. All that had been tarnished and burnt because of him. He so very much wanted to try to forget it all, but now Anna was trying to plant this small seed of hope in him. He would love to cling on to hope, but nothing was harder to live with than false hope. If they went down this path, we wondered if it would end up destroying them both with the crush of a heavy rejection. Knowing he needed to keep reading, he opened his eyes.

 _If it takes me meeting you in person to be able to get you out quicker then that is what I'm going to do, but I'll need your help in return. If you completely reject my offer then I'll understand, but John, let's try. Please?_

How could one word strike him in such a way that it felt like he had taken a physical blow? His eyes zoned in on the word 'Please?', and it felt like a plead. She was pleading with him to allow her to help him. His mother had been the only other person to ever beg to let her help him. If only he had taken the help back then. Maybe, just maybe, he should listen this time and take what was being offered.

 _There is so much more to be gained from trying than not. I am stronger than you may think. The idea of coming to the prison does not bother me. I visited my sister enough, so I know how the routine goes._ _Don't worry about remarks that may be made._

"That is easier said than done," he thought.

 _I'm not coming to listen to everyone's opinion. I am coming to meet you, only you. I have never in my life felt led to act as I am. You bring out emotions and feelings in me that I have never discovered before. This is how I know if we work together we will succeed. Don't doubt it, John. We will succeed in getting you out of there. I hope you will meet with me. It would truly make me happy to meet the man who writes so lovingly to me. If we do not meet, I'll tell you how I am, and what I've been doing in my next letter.  
_

 _Love Always,_

 _Anna x_

He let out a long exhale as he folded the letter back up and placed it in the envelope. As he laid the missive down on the table he heard his cell door beginning to unlock. He looked to the door with a confused look on his face. He stood as a guard entered his space.

"Bates, you have a visitor," the guard said shortly.

John could feel his eyes almost pop out of his head. She was here? Right now? It was now?

"I- I do?" he stammered as his mind tried to find purchase on one singular thought.

The guard looked down to a clipboard he had in his hand and replied, "An Anna Smith."

John felt his chest tighten as words continued to fail him.

"You don't have to have visitation. We can tell her you're unavailable, though if I were you I'd take the visit," the guard said rather unprofessionally, which sobered John up.

His face hardened as he responded, "I'll visit with Ms. Smith."

"I'll take you to the visitation room then."

What had he just said? Had he said he'd meet her? Oh, God.

He stepped out of the cell and waited as the guard closed the door. His blood pressure had surely spiked high enough to give him a stroke. Had he ever been so anxious before? He doubted it.

"This way Bates."


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** _Happy Valentine's Day to all of you._

 **Disclaimer:** _Same 1-20._

* * *

"This way, please," a guard said to Anna as she stood to her feet.

She had been waiting in a holding area with a few other women who had been looking at her. She guessed they all had someone they regularly visited and was curious about someone new even though no one asked her anything. It was fine. It didn't bother her to be mentally interrogated because her mind was focused on something, or rather someone, more important.

She rushed out an exhale as she stepped forward. She had asked herself a few times on her journey over if she was being crazy. Had she gone too far this time? Each time her reply to herself had been no, which in itself made her sound mad. Talking and replying to ones self wasn't a good sign of complete mental stability, but she really didn't care. Everything about this was different. He was different. If she could feel a connection to someone simply by writing to them then how could she not allow herself to meet them? Ever since the tragedies in her family had happened she had been the poster child for playing it safe. She had lived as simply as she could and had not taken much risk other than opening her own shop. This was the biggest risk she had taken in a long time, maybe even ever.

"We'll be in the last room to the right," the guard instructed as they walked down a long corridor.

She remained silent.

Her heart was beating much too fast now and her throat too tight to form words. She rolled her shoulders back to make herself stand taller and to also bolster her confidence. A slight anxiousness was trying to settle itself in the pit of her stomach telling her he wouldn't come. What would she do if he declined the visit? She would no doubt continue to write, but it would put a slight awkwardness in the mix. She was looking on the brighter side of things though and focused on the fact he would indeed be in front of her shortly.

The guard stopped and allowed her to enter the room first. She scanned the room to see there appeared to be four separate seating areas with each containing a small table and a chair on either side. She hadn't expected their visit to be completely private, in fact she knew it wouldn't be, but it was more private than she had been expecting. Only three other groups would be in the room.

"If you'll take the closest one to the right," the guard prompted and pointed to the area he mentioned.

"Yes. Thank you," she replied quietly.

"If he agrees to the visit, he'll be in shortly."

She gave the guard a short, polite nod and walked over to the table. She wondered if she should sit down, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She was too nervous to sit, so instead, she sat the items she brought along with her down on her side of the table. Her inner excitability leaked out as she laced her fingers together and fidgeted.

Her eyes darted to the door she had entered from when she heard some noise and then saw the other women entering the room with the guards. She briefly wondered why she was brought in by herself but decided it was because it was her first time. The others seemed to know which area they belonged in, so she now assumed each prisoner was assigned a visiting area. It probably helped keep everything tidy with the visitation process. The others took their seats as they too waited.

It was a couple of minutes later when the first prisoner came into the room from another door on the other side of the room. Her heart leapt for the briefest of seconds wondering if it might be him, but that thought quickly vanished when she looked at the man and saw him heading straight for one of the other women. She unlaced her hands and gripped the back of the chair for some support. She was feeling a little bit light headed, so she took a few deep breaths to help calm her. The door opened again and a younger man walked in. She immediately dismissed the idea of that being John. She knew John was in his forties, and the young man walked over to the other back corner to a woman she assumed to be his mother.

"Okay, two more, and one of them will be him," she thought to herself.

As soon as she finished her inner pep talk the door opened once more. It revealed a short, grey haired man who immediately walked over to the only other open table.

She sighed deeply an lowered her head to frown to herself. Would he really not come? Would he be so determined to keep her away that he would by pass the chance for them to meet?

As negative scenarios tried to claw their way into her thoughts, she heard the door open again. She blinked a couple of times and slowly raised her head.

Her eyes widened and a silent gasp caught in her throat.

* * *

"First time to visitation, Bates," the guard said as a statement and not a question.

John did not feel the need to respond. The administration here knew everything about every prisoner, so an answer was not necessary. His mind was stunted anyway. He was honestly surprised he remembered how to move his feet because his mind was flooded with her. When they began to descend the stairs to the floor below, he gripped the handrail and slowed his pace. His limp became more pronounced when using the stairs. This only gave him more time to think about what was about to happen.

He was going to see her, and oh God, she was going to see him.

What did he look like? It had been since yesterday since he had been able to look at himself. He knew he looked unkempt and not how he usually would look. A sudden sense of insecurity began to burrow inside him. They had been corresponding for months without seeing each other, but now a whole new layer was being added. What if he repulsed her? What if he saw disappointment and regret in her eyes? The self-hatred he more often than not failed to conceal would surely bloom and flourish if this meeting damaged what they had. There were so many things he had already not forgiven himself for, but him allowing himself to meet her and it ending badly would be at the top of the list. That was the risk he was taking at that moment as they reached the flat surface of the walkway towards their destination.

He knew as soon as he laid eyes upon her he would be changed. As much as it may sound shallow, a visual altered things. A simple glimpse of her would modify him forever in that he knew he would without a doubt love her more.

"We'll stop here," the guard instructed.

John saw three other men waiting to go into a room and three guards jotting down information. He was trying to take in all the details because he had never been through this process before. It could be possible this might end up being a regular routine for him.

He blinked and flexed his jaw muscle. He was putting the cart before the horse. They hadn't even met yet, and he was thinking about there being a second one? He brought himself back to reality and watched as they allowed one of the men to enter the room. He would not dare vocalize his feelings, but he was feeling drawn to the room. It was like he could feel her presence, or maybe her equal nervousness, as she waited for him. This was a huge step for her as well. How brave of her to show up here and meet a man she only knew by written word. What a miracle it was to him for her to care.

As the next bloke went in, the next one waiting looked over to him and smirked. John suppressed a sigh. It was far too late to think he could keep any of this private. After Hyland read his letter, the whole prison knew of his pen pal. This would only add to the jabs and mocking, but to hell with them. He would just have to ignore them the best he could because he didn't want to end up back in solitary. How could he explain going silent a second time, especially after seeing each other.

He broke himself from his train of thought as the man stepped inside the room.

"We'll move near the door now."

They stepped closer, and John waited by the door as his escort wrote down something on the clipboard he was carrying. He felt the slightest bit dizzy as he stared at the door. It felt like a monumental moment. He felt like this was the door which would open to his fate, but what kind of door would fate open for him that day? He wouldn't have much time to think about it as the guard shifted and said, "You can go through, Bates."

With a clammy palm, he reached forward and quietly turned the door knob.

"Don't pass out, for Christ's sake," he chided himself inwardly as the door knob stopped turning.

Stilling his facial features as best he could, he pushed open the door and stepped inside the room. He could feel the guard step inside behind him and close the door. He scanned the room quickly until he saw a woman standing in the back corner looking down at the floor. Was that her?

He watched as she slowly lifted her head. Sparkling pools of azure gazed at him and widened the longer they looked upon him.

"Anna," his mind whispered.

Warmth spread up from his legs, through his torso, to his arms, and out his pores as a smile spread across her face. She alone was filling the whole room with so much light he doubted they even needed the overhead lighting. He felt a small smile pop up on his face in response to her brilliant one.

"Back table, Bates," the guard commented in a slightly annoyed tone.

He walked towards her then. It felt surreal really like he was dreaming. He hoped his dreams would not be so cruel as for him to wake up and this not be real. His eyes remained on hers as he reached the chair on his side of the table. He could see unshed tears lingering on the brim of her eyes as a soft, silent giggle seemed to escape her. He was already absolutely overwhelmed by her in the best possible way. She was so beautiful, so stunningly beautiful both inside and out.

They were both temporarily brought out of their day dream as a guard spoke loudly.

"Remember visitation rules. The only contact allowed is hand holding during the visit and an embrace, kiss, or handshake at the end of the visit. All other contact isn't allowed. If any conversation or actions seem to be getting out of hand, we reserve the right to suspend the visitation at any time. The visitation is one hour in length. The time begins now."

After the announcement, their gazes drifted back to each other.

Anna was the first to speak.

"Hello, John."

She couldn't help but smile again as his small smile reappeared. He was tall, dark, and handsome. He had a five o'clock shadow, and his dark hair was a little bit long so strands touched his brow. His greenish brown eyes captivated her making butterflies erupt inside of her.

"Her voice," he thought after he heard her speak.

Realizing she was waiting for a reply, he said, "Hello, Anna."

She felt a little overcome, so she looked down to the chair to gather herself before she looked back up.

"Shall we?" she asked as she motioned to the chair.

He simply nodded in reply, and both of them pulled back their chairs to take their seats.

Both took the time to just take the other in. Both had imagined what the other looked like, and now that curiosity was being quenched.

John took in her golden blonde hair that lay in waves over her shoulders. She had a slender frame, a kind presence, and the most beautiful eyes he had ever looked into. She was an angel, a true, real life angel.

"How are you?" he asked as he found his voice.

Anna noted his strong, masculine features and broad frame. His eyes, however, were showing her the John from his letters. His eyes were kind, soft, and loving. God, this was him. This was John. He was right in front of her, and she kept having to tell herself it was really him.

"I'm very well. How are you?" she responded.

It wasn't exactly what she wanted to say, but she doubted what she really wanted to say was appropriate for having just met him in person.

"Better than I deserve."

She took a quick breath in to scold him but quickly stopped herself. She didn't want their first interaction to be her chiding him.

Instead she replied, "I'm having a hard time believing you are here in front of me."

"I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around that as well," he admitted. "I was just reading your letter before I got told you were here."

He felt a tug at his heart as he noticed her cheeks turn a light pink.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped the mark by coming here again against your wishes," she apologized as her face became serious.

Seeing her feel what he assumed to be guilt unsettled him.

"You didn't," he began and stopped. He started again as he tried his best to explain.

"It all has to do with this place. What it represents. It has to do with me and my shame."

Her eyes honed in on his. They truly were the gateway to seeing him, the true him. She had felt his innocence only through words, but looking at him now she didn't doubt that John was an innocent man.

"I don't see why an innocent man should have any shame," she stated.

He stared at her intently to see if he could find any source of humor or teasing in her statement, but he found none. She well and truly believed him to be innocent.

"You can't know that. You don't have all the details."

"Maybe not but just by meeting you it has confirmed to me you aren't guilty."

John closed his eyes for a few seconds. He could smell the honeyed lavender scent, and his shoulders relaxed a little at the familiarity. He opened his eyes again to see her smiling softly at him. The way she smiled at him, and the way her eyes looked upon him was something he was sure he had never experienced.

Anna decided to give them both a mental break from the heavy stuff for a little bit and changed the subject.

"So, since you agreed to meet me, I will tell you what I've been up to," she said with a hint of cheek.

A short, amused breath left John as he replied, "So, if I hadn't agreed then you wouldn't have told me?"

Easy teasing, yes, she liked that.

"Did you think about not meeting with me, Mr. Bates?" She smiled wider.

He briefly thought about being told she was here. He had thought about a lot in only a few seconds, but him declining her visit hadn't been one of them.

"No, I didn't," he answered honestly.

"Then there is no need to worry about whether I would have written about it."

"I guess you're right."

"You guess?" She asked in a teasing tone.

She watched his eyes flicker with amusement, and she melted.

"I stand corrected," he smiled.

"So, I didn't end up going to the coast, but the shop has been busy which is good."

He wanted to ask why she hadn't gone, but he remained quiet and allowed her to keep talking.

"Your mother's shortbread sells incredibly well. I know I've thanked you in writing, but I want to thank you again in person for sharing the recipe with me."

The sincerity in her eyes as she thanked him was so pure he got lost in her gaze for a moment.

When he found his voice, he responded, "You're more than welcome. Mother would be glad her recipe is still being used and is helpful."

"It is very much."

A beat a silence passed between them, but it was comfortable. Anna was trying to formulate her next words and spoke when she gathered her thoughts.

"I can't believe it is August now."

"It'll be Autumn before we know it."

"It will," she said and then changed direction. "So, you don't think you being unable to write me will happen again?"

The question caught him off guard even though it shouldn't have.

"If it is up to me it won't."

If someone threw the first punch though it couldn't be helped, he thought.

"And you won't tell me what happened?"

Avoiding her questions in writing was so much different from avoiding her questions in person. He exhaled and laced his hands on the table. Now that they have met, what would be the point of keeping all of it from her? He could tell her some of it at least.

"You remember me telling you about my cell mate?" he began.

"Yes, Leonard."

He kept a smirk from appearing, but looked into her eyes. She was so focused on listening to what he had to say. It was refreshing really to have someone's full attention.

"Well, one day he decided it would be a good idea to share something of mine with another person, and that person shared it with everyone in the yard."

Her brow knitted together just slightly, he noticed.

"Okay," she prompted.

"It was a bit of a tangle, and I got privileges taken away for a month. I'll try my best not to let that happen again."

"So, what you are really saying is Leonard stole one of the letters I wrote you. You fought with someone and ended up in solitary," she stated.

He kept his face stoic except for a blink. She got all of that from the little bit he shared?

"Is that what happened?" She asked when he didn't respond.

"Who would have thought you to be a good guesser," he said lightly.

Knowing there was no point in scolding him for something already done, she gave him a kind look and said, "Well, as long as we can try to keep that from happening again."

"You have my word it won't be because of me."

She knew he didn't say it wouldn't happen again. It just wouldn't be because he started it.

"Thank you."

They shared a small, understanding smile before she spoke again.

"I met some new people while we weren't able to write."

This immediately piqued his interest. His eyebrows raised a little as he leaned in a bit closer.

Was she about to tell him she had met someone? He wouldn't be surprised if she had even though he felt an ache in his chest from the thought.

"Anyone interesting?" He asked.

"I believe so. I think I was meant to find them."

The expanse of his chest felt as though it was tightening. Was it true? Had she met someone and had come to tell him in person? Was he beginning to feel a tad bit nauseous?

With effort, he asked, "You've found someone you are keen on?"

He waited with baited breath for her answer. In all honesty, the best thing for her would be to be with someone else, to love someone else. She deserved the affections of a free man, but on the other hand he dreaded for it to be true.

"No, silly beggar," she chuckled. "The only person I am keen on is you."

His eyebrows fully raised then, and she matched his expression which caused him to release a short chuckle of his own.

There was bold Anna. The Anna who had always shared her feelings first. He felt his whole body relax at her confirmation. Well, everything but his mind which was still trying to convince him he was the most selfish bastard on the planet.

Anna watched as his neck pinked and heard his brief laugh. How silly of him to think she had found someone else. This gorgeous, loving, considerate man was the only man she was thinking about.

He smirked, and she took that as him saying he was keen on her as well.

She folded her arms on the table which made her lean in.

"Who did you come across then?" John asked.

"My flat mate, Gwen, she works for Grantham's, and I was her date to their Christmas party."

He felt his breathing stop as he waited to hear what she had to say next. She had never mentioned Gwen working at Grantham's, but why would she? She could have met anyone at that party. Possibly people who knew him.

"Anyway, I got the pleasure of meeting the owners of Grantham's, Robert and Cora Crawley."

She noticed his face falter just enough to indicate he knew who she had mentioned. She only hoped she could start putting pieces together to help get him out of there.

"Do you know them?" She asked though she already knew he did.

"Yes," he commented quietly as he looked to the wooden table between them.

Out of all the people in the world, he didn't think she would ever meet Robert and Cora. What were the odds of that? He reasoned it could happen when you live in the same county.

She knew they wouldn't have the time to go over everything that needed to be gone over that day. This was a good starting place, and she hoped he would allow them to build from here.

He looked as though he was having an internal struggle. It pulled at her heart strings, so she did the first thing that came to her mind which was to comfort him.

She reached her right hand across the table and opened it for him to take. She remembered that they could hold hands while speaking, so she offered the gesture willing to him.

John shifted his eyes to look at her open palm. He was trying so hard to suppress all the different emotions she was creating in him. It was one thing to get to be in her presence, to be able to look at her. It was a whole different matter to be able to touch her. He hadn't prepared himself for that. He hadn't thought it to ever be a possibility for him to be able to see her let alone touch her.

He was nervous yet so overwhelmed by the gesture. He didn't have the power to reject her.

He unlaced his hands and moved his left hand. He felt a strong sensation move through him as his palm met hers. They clasped onto one another, and he felt like he had been pulled into his strong hold. She was his steadiness, his solid ground.

Her hand felt a little cold and petite in his own. He was battling with himself to admit it, but he already loved the feel of her hand in his. How long it had been since he had felt a caring touch. It was almost too much for him.

"John," she whispered to him.

He felt his skin prickle from her whispering his name. He looked up from their joined hands and met her eyes.

"It's going to be okay," she smiled warmly and squeezed his hand for reassurance.

This time however he didn't quite return the smile. He looked as though his mind was away thinking on something else.

"John," she said again with more firmness.

He blinked a couple of times and took a deep breath. She moved her thumb back and forth over his hand which seemed to get him to come back to her.

"No matter what ends up being revealed. It won't change how I see you or feel about you."

"That's easy to say before you know," John stated with more force than he had intended.

Had he just sounded cross with her? Had he just raised his voice even the smallest bit? He knew he deserved for the floor to open up and swallow him.

He immediately tried to back track.

"I'm sorry, Anna. That was very rude of me to say," he apologized.

What happened next he didn't expect. She brought her other hand over and grasped his hand now with both her hands.

"Listen to me," she began.

She looked him in the eye and continued, "I'm here. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We don't have to discuss everything today or even next time, but John..."

She trailed off for a few seconds just to implore him through his eyes.

"I would very much like for you not to have to spend another three years in here."

"But why do you feel so strongly that I didn't do it?" he asked out of curiosity.

"For starters, not once have you came out and told me that you are one hundred percent guilty. You've not said there is absolutely no way of you getting out early because you did indeed do the crime. This leads me to believe there is much more to this than you committing felony theft. I met you six months ago, but today let's me know for certain you don't belong here. If you can tell me right now that you are completely guilty and at fault, then I will stop thinking we can get you out. Can you honestly tell me that?"

He wanted to say yes.

Did he feel right having Anna working to try to get him out of the mess he had created? No, he did not.

He wouldn't lie to her, so he had no choice but to give some information away.

"No, I can not tell you that," he confessed.

He watched her perk up.

"So you are innocent then?"

"I would never call myself innocent. Ever since I was arrested, I believed I belonged in here. It's too much to explain for now."

Anna looked to her wrist watch and was astonished by the time. No, they wouldn't have time to dissect his whole back story today.

"You're right," she said as she withdrew her hands from his.

They both felt a sense of loss, but neither reflected it.

"Time has gotten away from us. Let me give you this before our time is up."

She picked up her purse and retrieved a book. He hadn't even noticed it until now.

"I just took a guess that you might like it," she shrugged as she reached out the book for him to take.

He took the book and looked at the cover. It was a volume of Robert Burn's work.

He looked up and cocked his head to the right. His smile shone through his eyes.

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I have been wanting to read this. My grandfather loved Burns' work."

"Lucky guess?"

"Yes, I suppose it was. Thank you very much for this, Anna. I'll repay you one day for buying all this."

Anna knew he didn't intend his words to imply what she was thinking, but the fact that he mentioned repaying her one day made her feel happy. She wasn't going to allow him to do so, however.

"Nonsense. You'll do no such thing. Oh, and this."

She handed over an envelope.

"To read in your spare time," she grinned.

"Here I am being spoiled, and I have nothing to give you in return," he said while holding his new book in one hand and the letter in the other.

"Oh, believe me, John, you've given me so much more."

He swallowed hard, and they gazed at each other for a while until the guard's voice rang out announcing visitation was coming to a close.

John laid his items on the table and stood to his feet. Anna stood up as well.

John couldn't keep himself from looking at her. God help him, now that he had met her he hated the thought of her leaving.

"Would it be okay with you if I come again? I know you get two one hour visits a month," she asked.

He didn't have the heart to tell her no, and truthfully, he wanted to see her again.

"That would be alright."

"I'm glad to hear it," she grinned, making him smile as well. "I'll be back in two weeks then."

"Does that mean no more letter writing?"

"Of course not, I'll be looking for your reply."

The guard announced it was time to make goodbyes. Anna rounded the table, and John stuck out his hand for a handshake. For the briefest of seconds, she assumed she would get to hug him, but she decided he was right. This was their first face-to-face meeting, and they had had a lot of contact already.

She reached out her hand and shook his. She looked up to his loving face and wanted to fold herself into his embrace, but she understood what a massive deal this was for both of them. She knew this was a huge step for John. She would gladly shake his hand any day over not being able to have contact with him at all.

"Thank you for seeing me," she said.

"The pleasure was all mine, Anna," he almost crooned, making her knees feel weak.

"Time's up."

At that, they dropped their hands. John picked up his things and turned to walk out the door he had came from. Halfway there, he turned his upper body to look at her and mouthed, "Thank you."

She quickly nodded in reply before he turned back around and disappeared from sight.

* * *

 **A/N:** _I do not know the rules of the British prison system. So, I'm just taking liberties that they can have some contact._


End file.
